The Lonely River Of Time
by shoot-for-the-stars845
Summary: AU where Dumbledore died but instead of Book 7 happening, he had another plan for Harry involving him going back in time to try to save Tom Riddle from himself. BoyxBoy Rated M for smut/adult situations
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: This is a simple story. It probably won't last that long probably only like 15 chapters or so. I'm not sure how long the chapters are gonna be yet so I guess we'll see. This story will be mature and it will contain adult scenes. This will be purely NON-Canon, it's gonna be a random premise with not too much back story so just enjoy the story and try not to think about how much it doesn't make sense with the Harry Potter Timeline.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. Just trying to make fanfiction for your entertainment.**

* * *

His face as it fell. Blank, lifeless, betrayed. Dumbledore is dead, and Hogwarts was vulnerable. Harry was seething in anger, confusion, and devastation. Having just returned from the small memorial for the late headmaster, he resided in the old office.

Harry's life didn't have all too much light in it ever since the return of Voldemort. Evil was behind every corner, and Professor Snape, once a harmless Potions master set on deducting points from Gryffindor house, now known as the assassin of Dumbledore. The headmaster was the only thing Harry had left to family since Sirius Black died. Now everyone was dying, those not already dead officially unsafe in the wizarding world. He thought of Hermione, the Weasleys. All the people he cared about in the Gryffindor house were in danger.

Ron and Hermione had already approached him about the three of them continuing the search for the horcruxes, but at what cost. So that Harry could watch everyone he loves die? Not an option. He'd let them know they were in it together, but here inside Dumbledore's office, he knew the only thing he could do was find the rest by himself. He was the Boy-Who-Lived, and he was the center of the prophecy. As much as he wanted help, he couldn't risk his friends.

There was a loud screech, startling him. Whipping his head to the window, hand on his wand, he sighed in relief, spotting only Fawkes the Phoenix by the window. "When did you get here?" Harry said, knowing the bird couldn't understand him.

He attempted to return to his sulking, moving his stare to the desk, studying all the abandoned papers. Fawkes, however, wasn't having it as he swooped down, pecking at Harry's head. "Ow." He winced, rubbing at the sore spot. "What do you want?" He watched the bird fly back to the window, tilting his head down to a strange object.

Harry groaned, getting up to check it out, figuring Fawkes wasn't giving up on him seeing it. Once arriving to the spot in question, the boy pursed his lips. "A candlestick." Fawkes didn't seem phased by his confusion, expecting it almost. The red creature nodded toward it again, insistent on it's importance. Harry raised his brow, reaching out for the thing. Once in contact, the thing immediately retracted, sending Harry back in shock. "What-?"

The wall below the windowsill sunk in, replaced with a great wall of energy. "Fawkes, what is this?" He turned back to the bird, highly unaware of what's going on. The bird only blinked, reaching into his tail feathers, gripping something with his beak. Harry watched in interest, waiting for what's happening next. Fawkes screeched, pulling loose a long red/orange feather and handing it to the boy.

Taking the long feather, Harry stared down at it, watching it transform from the bird's scruff to a worn, scratched up piece of parchment. His green eyes widened, breathing in the discovery. He recognized the handwriting, looking at Fawkes. "This is from Dumbledore." He said, gripping the paper with his life.

Leaving the bird's side, he gave one more thoughtful glance towards the wall of energy before returning to the desk to read the letter.

 _Harry Potter,_

 _If you are reading this, I have died. And you are grieving. I am sorry to leave you with so little answers, and much more arising questions. You're probably wondering where the other horcruxes are, preparing yourself for the long crucibles ahead of you before your inevitable battle with Tom Riddle._

 _Without me, you are feeling hopeless, and inept. I know you are scared Harry, you need not fear any longer. Your journey with me is long but over. You see, my boy, I have been prepared in the case of these unfolding events. I have what muggles call, a scapegoat._

 _Look upon the wall, changed by magic, led to you by Fawkes. There are things in this world capable of many things, Harry. That wall is one of the most powerful objects known by not many wizards. It is called "_ _flumen temporis", or the river of time._

 _Second year you encountered Tom Ridde, blinded by his hate and lack of morals. He is devoid of love, believing himself incapable. You know the story behind him making his horcruxes during his sixth and seventh year. Now that I am no longer present to aide your journey, we're going to need a different approach._

Harry switched stares back and forth from the wall to the letter. "Dumbledore, what are you gonna get me into?" He continued reading. Eyes widening as he pulled through till the end of the letter. The instructions were straight forward, and as much as Harry didn't approve of the method, Dumbledore stretched the need for this plan.

The boy let out a breath, looking towards the wall, the river of time one last time before leaving the room to gather his things.

* * *

"Ron, Hermione, forgive me." Harry gritted his teeth, eyes shut to shield his mind from the fear rushing through his body. He knew what he had to do, but he wasn't looking forward to it. Jumping through the wall, all the luggage in his arms, Hedwig tight in his hand, he was reminded of the feeling of passing through Platform 9 3/4. It was bittersweet.

The initial feeling was over, and Harry was now jolted through what felt like a jet stream of time. Screaming with exhilaration and the slight tingling in his stomach, Harry felt his whole mindset switch as if not even just the physical time was changing, but his mental time was also changing.

When the excitement was over, it was quiet. There as a breeze on his face, Harry's eyes fluttering open. His lips parted, surprise flooding him. Hedwig chirped next to him, the familiar feeling of the place easing the owl.

Harry Potter was standing at the front entrance of Hogwarts, but he knew this wasn't the place he knew or was used to. And to match his suspicion, he knocked on the door, noting that even the wood felt different. Sturdier.

The doors swung open, welcoming warmth rushing to meet the cool air. He was met with the sounds of children in the distance, possibly in the Great Hall for dinner. Looking up the stairs of the castle entrance, his stomach fell at the sight of the very same man he had said goodbye to at the memorial the same day. Only it wasn't the same day, was it?

Professor Albus Dumbledore greeted the young boy with a comfortable smile, looking as though he expected the child. Harry couldn't help but internally praise the man. His backup plan really did seem quite full proof. This facade he was sent to build already surfaced on it's own, as if the _flumen temporis_ preset his new identity for him, unraveling his 'fake life' by the most intricate magic.

"Harry Greyhorn, I assume?" Professor Dumbledore motioned the boy up the stairs.

Harry nodded at once, gathering his things to approach the man on top of the stairs. Noticing the heavy luggage, Dumbledore waved his finger, and Harry's belongings disappeared. "You will be able to retrieve them as soon as your sorting is complete." He met Harry halfway down the steps, "The first years are in the middle of their ceremony right now. The Professors have been informed of your presence." Harry caught the man eyeing his scar.

Everything was going just as the letter said it would. Dumbledore (present day) had explained the _flumen temporis_ has been designed by himself to program Harry Potter into this timeline as Harry Greyhorn, a fourth year transfer from the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry looked down to his chest, studying his outfit. A pair of old traditional Hogwarts robes from this time period fit on his body, which felt different than before. He felt his hair, it being longer than how he'd left it in the present day. Harry knew the magical wall of time had transformed him to his fourth year physicality, looking the part as well as acting the part.

"I assure you, live in Hogwarts won't be that much different than your life in Ilvermorny."

Harry gave a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Thank you professor, I'm quite excited."

Professor Dumbledore looked semi surprised. "No American accent I hear?"

"Parents were local around here. I grew up in Godric's Hollow until I was 10, moved to the states till now." Harry explained, feeding the same story given to him by the letter.

Dumbledore thought not to question any further, only bringing him through the doors of the Great Hall, Harry cringing when mass amounts of people turned to stair at him. He pushed his hair down, hiding the lightning scar on his forehead out of insecurity. No one here knows why he has it, so it's extremely out of place. "Right this way." The Professor led him down to the front as the Sorting Hat finished the last first year.

"HUFFLEPUFF." The object said. The house cheered for it's new arrival, the boy taking his seat.

Harry met the eyes of Professor Slughorn, glad to see another familiar face. The Potions teacher checked his list, nodding and then looking back to the boy. "Harry Greyhorn, come on up to be sorted."

He felt eyes in the back of his head, burning through his scalp. The thought of everyone's attention on him, especially the attention of _him_... Tom Riddle. It sicked the teen to no end. But this was something he had to do.

Reaching the stool, he politely took a seat, closing his eyes as not to see anyone's face in the crowd. He knew what he had to do. Harry Potter didn't exist in this time, and neither do any of his friends or accomplishments in the house of Gryffindor. There was nothing for the boy there, he knew that.

 _Your mind is complicated, mysterious. You've seen quite a lot, isn't that right, Mr. Potter?_ It was no surprise that the Sorting Hat saw through his facade. After all, the hat could see into every depths of his mind. _You have the heart of a true Gryffindor, but you are dark. You are cunning, ambitious. I still stand by you being in Gryffindor, but I see where you belong. Your place is in-_

"SLYTHERIN." There were deep cheers from the table. Harry opened his eyes and straightened his back, strolling over to the table where he would call home. His eyes scanned over the table, waiting to meet the ones of the boy who will soon become the estranged killer Harry knows him to be. Finally, after searching dark eyes, light eyes, dark skin, light skin galore, the boy found his target.

Meeting the crystal blue eyes of his parent's future murderer, Harry Potter found his objective. Tom Marvolo Riddle.


	2. The Heir of Slytherin

"Lemon grass." The Slytherin commons opened for Harry, allowing him to slip into room and out of the cold dungeon. Unfortunately for him, he's used to the warm exterior and interior of the Gryffindor commons. Down in the lower levels, the only warming place is by the fireplace and under two layers of comforter.

Sighing, he took his usual spot next to the flames in a squishy green fabric chair. Yet another thing he can't bring himself to adjust to. The many sightings of the color green. It was everywhere, from the badge on his robes, to the furniture in the room. He swore he saw Headboy walking into the male showers with a dyed bar of soap. This place was crawling with the Slytherin symbol.

He swung his leg around in order for his leg to hang off the armchair, allowing more warmth to spread across him. Closing his eyes, he shook off the entirety of the day. Harry found it quite difficult to approach Tom Riddle, avoiding him at all costs. This proved quite difficult for his 'plan', not to mention the boys share many of classes together. His only escape from the boy is Divination, and Quidditch practice.

September tryouts proved difficult for the boy, but Harry was determined to set aside his Gryffindor bias in ability to at least throw himself in something he loves. The Seeker spot was as good as his. Slowly he was finding ways to make life in Slytherin more bearable. One involved spending as little time around the bunch as humanly possible. That often meant eating quick meals and escaping to the commons during dinners, which is what is happening now.

Harry found much comfort in being alone, especially with his mission only involving one person here, he thought creating unnecessary friendships futile.

While the boy was enjoying his pure moment of bliss by the fire, warming his body up from the cool temperatures of the dungeons, he didn't notice one of the boys entering the commons room. Especially not the boy he most didn't want to see.

But alas, Tom Riddle had needed an escape from the commotion in the Great Hall, growing ultimately annoyed with the lot of them. Residing in his favorite place in the castle was ideal to calm down his annoyance. Finding an empty table in the back, Tom pulled out a book from the bookshelf, internally groaning at the familiar Transfiguration book. He'd read it nearly twenty times, but lacking the energy to pull out another, he simply surrendered to it, reading it in quiet.

Tom hadn't noticed the new boy in the chair until hearing a stiff yawn from the direction of the fire. His gaze rose to meet the form of the boy, one leg hanging off the armchair, arms stretched to cradle his head. He knew what boy it was. The new student in his year who, like him, often didn't require the company of others.

The reading boy noticed Harry always escaping social situations, preferring the quiet of the commons during meals, only eating quick plates of food before excusing himself. Tom respected that, knowing all too well of his own resentment to others. But what made the Slytherin most interested was Harry's extreme fascination with Tom himself.

Harry probably didn't know the boy knew of his hateful stares, and that the boy knew he avoided Tom above all others.

The darker of the two puzzled himself, not understanding why Harry wanted to much not to be around the boy. It didn't bother him all too much, frankly not wanting to be around the other boy either. But Tom prided himself on knowing everything about everyone in the Slytherin house. Studying every member meticulously, in search of their strengths and weaknesses. Although, Harry was hard to read. The boy spent no time around others, excelling in Quidditch and Potions, not bothering in much else.

Tom crinkled his nose, clearing his mind of the distraction from the boy. Harry didn't seem bothered by his presence at the moment, and so the boy didn't bother the Slytherin. He continued reading his book, taking note of the heavy breathing from the boy by the fire, signalling he had fallen asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Tom was surprised to find Harry still asleep on the chair where he'd left him last night. Impressed by the boy's determination as not even the bustling post dinner Slytherins had woken him up. The boy moved to the chair hesitantly.

"Oi." He muttered, shaking the boy gently, not moving to close, not wanting the interaction.

Harry's eyes fluttered open nervously, looking around for any signs of danger. Tom, intrigued by the deep green of the boy's eyes, leaned in slightly to study them fully. He'd never noticed them before. They matched most of the furniture around the room.

When Harry met his stare, a blank expression replacing the alert one from before. He quickly stood up, causing the other boy to fall back, using the wall to steady himself. Straightening out his clothes, the boy moved towards the stairs, unmoved by the growing anger in the boy still by the chair.

"What the bloody hell is your problem, Greyhorn?" Tom said, quite bitterly.

Harry froze, this being the first confrontation with the boy. He gritted his teeth, knowing all to well he couldn't avoid the boy forever, not with the plan in motion. Turning around he walked back over to Riddle, an apparent frown on his lips. "Your my problem." He said calmly, staring intensely at the boy.

Tom parted his lips to say something, hatred seething from his blue eyes. Before shouting anything immature, the boy composed himself. "I don't have time to deal with petty grudges from filthy mudbloods like you." He spat.

Harry's eyes widened, immediately pinning Tom to the wall, fury building at his core. Whipping his wand out, he pointed it to his neck. The boy underneath him looked completely at ease, fire in his eyes when he pointed his own wand to Harry's stomach. "Why did you call me that?" The boy asked loudly. Thankfully for them, it was far to early for anyone to be completely up at this time, resulting in no bystanders.

Tom only sneered. "I overheard you talking to Professor Dumbledore about your father and your filthy mudblood mother." He said, referring to Harry's private meeting with the Transfiguration teacher discussing the boy's past. Tom had been heading there for confirmation on work, but stayed for the information.

The derogatory term used for his mother sent Harry off the edge. Coming from her murderer, he let all of his emotions pour out, shouting things he knew he wasn't supposed to know. "You're the one to talk, huh, Riddle? You and your muggle father?" He couldn't care less of the horrified expression on the boy's face. "Hmm, since you're a halfblood, guess that means you've got some mud in your veins too. You stupid, filthy, _mudblood_."

"Stop! STOP IT." Tom said, pushing the boy off him, pain and embarrassment written all over his face. A couple of students had come down the stairs by this time, overhearing the whole conversation. The Slytherin boy looked in complete agony when seeing the other teens watching him in slight disgust.

Harry only smirked, loving seeing the boy in pain. "Doesn't feel all that good now, does it Tom?"

"You can't possibly have known this." The other boy said shaking, pointing an accusing finger at Harry. "Y-you-" He didn't finish before running out of the room, red in the face. He was ashamed of his peers knowing of his stupid muggle father's past. The stupid muggle father he found when looking through the records of his mother at the orphanage and finding evidence of the man through them.

Harry found comfort in knowing he caused the boy who killed his parents this much pain. But something about the look on his face, not just the anger or hatred. Tom had something else about his eyes. The boy couldn't help but feeling a bit guilty when seeing the loneliness that resided in the crystal blue. The shame, like he genuinely was ashamed of his heritage. Those types of emotions shocked Harry, only thinking Tom capable of feeling anger and hate. Of him only feeling selfishness.

But the thing most apparent in Tom's eyes was regret. Almost like he regret the things he said to Harry.

Seeing this type of vulnerability in the boy, made the Gryffindor realize something. Tom Riddle wasn't Voldemort yet. He hadn't done those terrible things yet, and there was a chance that he wouldn't ever. Feeling the scar on his forehead, Harry knew he had to put aside those thoughts of the dark lord. He wasn't here right now. The only threat he faced was that of the Heir of Slytherin, blinded by his born hatred of muggles that he even came to hate himself for what he is.

Thinking back to Dumbledore's instructed letter, Harry came to a decision to start his mission. He needed to change Tom Riddle, by saving him from what he will become.


	3. Gryffindor At Heart

Tom Riddle wasn't just a loner in the Slytherin House. He had become exiled due to his muggle half. Harry watched as people no longer wanted to be around him, taking note of some changes already in motion at this time. Now that he had been blacklisted within the house, it would be much harder for him to create any type of following base. It might even take him years longer than it had.

Harry truly did pity the boy now, watching him seethe anger through the halls, no mercy to any of those brave enough to try him. Tom Riddle had many things held against other people. He would never forget the confrontation between the young man and the Ravenclaw the previous day.

"Oh really, Anabelle? You want to ridicule me?" Tom sneered, fists balled at his sides. "You wouldn't people know what you and your cousin did last month would you, now?"

Let's just say, the girl hadn't opened her mouth much after that.

Harry had his own confrontation put on hold, scared of Tom's reaction towards the boy who put him in this place. Sitting in the library, he had his eye on the Slytherin boy, having followed him all week. He had yet to notice, so the boy took this as an advantage to carefully plan out what to say to the lad in order to get close to him.

Tom, however, had noticed the boy following him around. He had resided to the library to escape the many students, mostly muggleborns out to get him for his hypocritical way of thinking.

 _Hypocritical_ , Tom thought, disgust growing inside him. If he had it his way, he would cut out any trace of muggle in his system. He knew all to well of his disappointing heritage. Not that it changed his way of thinking. Muggleborns had no place in this school, and Tom Riddle wanted to do something about it. Rid the wizard race of this tainted blood.

No one would have had to know of his own family's mistake. No one did know, until that dumb Greyhorn kid ruined everything. And now Harry wouldn't leave him alone, attached to his shadow as if ruining his social position in the school wasn't good enough. Now he stayed as a constant reminder of Tom's failures.

Before the incident, Tom chose not to be talked to. Everyone knew of his choices to be alone, and respected him for his silent nature and high ranks in class. Now the boy was taunted. Laughed at for being insecure. Ashamed of himself so he takes it out on others. Students called him pretentious. As if he could possibly care about superficial things like popularity.

Standing from his table in the library, he let himself be consumed by his anger, walking outside towards the Quidditch pitch. He smirked when he felt the other boy's presence, following him out to the empty space.

Harry slowed down his pace, wand in his waistband pocket, itching to be held. This would be the perfect place to get rid of the boy. Take care of his problem before it even starts.

Shaking his head, he remembered the well informing instructions of the letter. 'Get close, change his ways, and if nothing else changes, kill him.' That was the plan. Stretching the space between him and Tom, he settled for keeping an eye on him.

The Slytherin boy stopped in his place, directly outside the pitch, fists balling. Harry could see him start to turn, standing in place, fear in his mind. He's been caught.

Tom met the eyes of the boy, frown on his lips as he began moving towards him. Sighing, Harry knew this was the confrontation he'd been looking forward to. Moving his feet, he went to meet the other boy half the distance.

Upon reaching his follower, Tom pulled his wand out, pointing it at Harry who kept walking towards him calmly. "You truly are a strange one, Greyhorn." He said, equally calm, not letting any emotion seep through his face. "Most would think you should have been placed in Gryffindor for your brave ability to look me in the eye after what you did."

"I'm not scared of you, Riddle."

Tom scoffed darkly. "Oh but you should be." He used his wand to motion the chilling empty air around them. "No one here. No one to hear your screams." He threatened.

Harry laughed, fingers tightening around his own wand. "Oh but you wouldn't dare." He took another step closer until Tom's wand was center at his chest. "Cause if you really wanted to, you would have already said the words."

The other boy's eyes widened. "Who are you?" He took a step back, lowering his wand.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Tom." Harry enjoyed the look of ominous fear in Tom's blue eyes.

"Isn't exposing the truth about me enough? What more do you want?"

 _I want you dead._ "You think you mean that much to me in which I really want you to suffer that bad? You're nothing." Harry swiped Tom's wand out of his hand, making the boy jump back. Throwing it to the side, his eyes locked with blue. "And you know you're nothing don't you."

"I-I" As much as Tom wanted to look strong, he felt weak. Something pulled at his stomach, and he did something un-thought of. There was a wetness at his cheek and bringing his hand up to meet his face, he felt a tear. Rubbing his eyes, he looked down, not wanting the boy to see him this vulnerable.

But it was to late, and Harry watched as the future dark lord, one of the most ruthless, stoic men of his time break apart in front of him. "You're crying?" He stepped forward as if wanting to get a better look. This may be the only time he sees something this pathetic in his life. But getting closer, he saw legitimate failure emitting from Tom.

"Why do you hate me?" The fourteen year old asked, backing away and looking up at Harry, eyes dry but full of sadness. "What could I possibly have done to you to make you hate me this much?"

 _It's not about what you've done. It what you will do._ "You think you're better than others, Tom. You think muggles aren't worth anything and muggleborns don't belong in this school."

He spat, "Muggles are weak. Any of there blood in a wizard is deadly to our power."

"That's delusional."

Tom shrugged. "Maybe I am delusional, but you'll never make me think otherwise. Muggles are disgusting, and if I had the choice, I would burn the muggle blood out of me."

Harry let out a breath, unsure of what else to say. This boy had his beliefs stitched in his mind. He couldn't understand where they came from. He was raised in a home of muggles. "I really pity you, Tom Riddle." He whispered.

This seemed to anger the boy even more. "What do you know?" He yelled.

"I know what it feels like not to be alone." Harry paused. "I know how it feels to love."

Tom froze, wincing at the word. _Love_. He's never cared for the word, not understanding why people get blinded by such a weak emotion. "Love makes you do dumb things. I'm better off without it."

Harry looked down and smiled. Tom gave him a confused look, wondering what on earth there was to smile about.

"What is wrong with you?" He asked.

"I don't think you'll ever understand the true power of love." Harry pulled out his wand and pointed to the right of Tom. The boy threw his hands up.

"I don't want to fight, Greyhorn." He pleaded.

"Watch." Harry focused on the space behind him, gripping to the distant memory of his friends. Ron, Hermione, The Weasleys, Dumbledore, his parents. "Expecto Patronum." With that, the familiar stag flew out of his wand, dancing around the field, stopping in front of Tom.

The Slytherin boy stared, eyes widened, jaw open. He reached his hand out to touch it, immediately feeling a strange warmth in the pit of his stomach, a flash memory appearing in his mind. A woman, red hair, matching green eyes to Harry's. And a man who resembled the boy undoubtedly, even the same disheveled hair and round glasses. The memory ended as quickly as it had begun, leaving the boy in a daze staring where the stag once was. "What-" He stared at Harry.

He only shrugged. "You'll never understand the meaning without having feeling it for yourself. So I just showed you." He pointed to where the stag was. "You lack the one thing in this world that allows you to know this kind of power."

Tom gaped, understanding a little of what that animal was. "That was a corporeal patronus. How could a fourth year like yourself make one of those?"

Harry smiled. "I happen to have had an amazing teacher. And because I have an abundance of love in my heart, I'm able to make this." He repeated the spell, watching the stag once again dance around.

Tom watched in awe and wonder, reaching out to touch the animal, but before he made contact the patronus disappeared. He stared at Harry, eyes hungry for this knowledge. "T-teach me."

"Are you kidding?" Harry laughed out loud, the sound reaching in the air. "I just told you. You need to know love before you can even think about conjuring one of these." Continuing to laugh his ass off, he turned around back to the school, leaving Tom behind.

The other boy wasn't quite done yet. He went to retrieve his wand and ran to catch up to Harry. "Wait! I know I can learn this. Teach me, please."

"Even if I could teach you, you would only be able to make it uncorporeal." Harry said, teasing the boy as he walked back to the castle, Tom by his side. "You're a strong student and a great wizard, but you're underdeveloped."

"Then teach me how to love."

Harry stopped in his tracks, the other boy doing the same. Green met blue. "Why are you hanging around me? No one hangs around me."

Tom swallowed, staring down at the slightly shorter boy. "Us exiles should stick together." He continued walking to the castle, and hesitantly Harry followed behind, catching up to the other boy.

He was surprised with Tom today, not expecting such a turn of events all because of a patronus. But Harry knew better than to mistake this for actual sincerity. From all he knows about Voldemort, he realizes this isn't him reaching out for a friend, this is Tom reaching out for power. He wants the knowledge and strength of a patronus, and realizing he can't possess the ability himself, he's latching onto Harry to learn from someone who does.

Regardless, the Gryffindor at heart can spot an opportunity when it arises.


	4. Skin Like Ice

Harry placed three more books in front of Tom, but the fourth year pushed them away, not wanting to read variations of the same thing for another hour. "Harry, the books aren't working. We've been working on this for about two weeks now. No progress." He crossed his arms in protest, turning his head from the stack.

Rolling his eyes, the other boy took a seat across from the table, about ready to say the same thing he always does. Tom insists that there must be another way to learn the patronus, pointing out falling in love is too hard of a task, especially with lack of suitors. "Everyone is far too ugly." He had said heartlessly.

Of course, Harry had thought otherwise, spotting quite a number of girls who looked attractive enough. And with Tom being quite the looker, he thought it'd been easy finding dates for the boy. Plenty of females had been willing to try it out, even with options being limited. Slytherins weren't exactly looking to date a half blood, believing there would be no room for his unpure blood in a family. So that left only Ravenclaw girls, Tom refusing any Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs.

Harry had even tried finding nice boys for him, not wanting to rule out the chance Tom played for the other team. Either way, the boy was extremely picky, finding problems with every single person sent his way. This led to him returning to what he knew best which was studying. Forcing Harry to spend the next too weeks after that in the library with him, they gained access to any books having to do with both corporeal and uncorporeal patronuses.

Each book led Tom to another book on the art of conjuring a patronus. Unfortunately no books ever spoke of having an ability to conjure with the lack of the emotion of love. Growing impatient, the Slytherin had tried any way of research he could, including on a hands on approach, which involved sneaking out with Harry under the new boy's invisibility cloak (which was another mysterious factor about the Greyhorn boy that he would not share with Riddle). They tried many times to teach Tom the spell, but without a substantial base emotion, each attempt was a fail.

"Let's take a break." Harry said, convincing the boy to leave the library with him. Grabbing his hand, he dragged him out of the place, not realizing the confusion brought on Tom's face when his hand came into contact with the other boy's. It was much colder than one would expect, sending chills down his spine.

But despite the low temperate, Riddle felt a weird warmth in his stomach, finding comfort from the touch. Ignoring it, he pulled his hand away, giving in and following the Greyhorn boy out the room into the Great Hall. They were met with teachers finishing their Christmas decorating on this nice December night.

Harry smiled fondly at the waving wands lacing tinsel through the trees, and Christmas candles floating above all the tables. The holidays was often an amazing time for the boy, bringing him happy memories of spending break with the Weasleys or even spending it here in the school. This year of course, the boy would spend it alone in the cold, dark Slytherin commons.

Tom, standing next to him, had quite a bored look on his face, not as excited for the holidays. "Pointless time of year, don't you think?" He said, expecting the same reaction from his company.

"No, not at all!" Harry said, mouth wide. He quite enjoys Christmas, and knows he'll be filled with good memories. Even without the promise of presents he know's this year will put him at ease even during his mission. "Don't you like Christmas?" He supposed it was a stupid question to ask, but over the last 3 months, Tom has really surprised him.

"Never. What point is the holiday without presents, and I've never received one." Tom thought nothing of the empathy met with his statement.

Harry tilted his head. "Don't you return to the orphanage? None of the staff give you anything?"

"I've told you countless times, Harry. I hate that place and if I had it my way, I'd never return. No, Hogwarts is my home, so of course I will spend the holidays here." He paused, taking a seat at an empty spot of the table, grabbing at the food in the center. "Not to mention, those old hags don't give a rat's arse about any of us. Especially not me."

 _No wonder he's never loved anything. No one has ever shown him any love._ Harry dropped the subject, a plan formulating in his mind to change the opinion of Christmas for Tom.

* * *

Christmas Eve came quicker than ever, and with most of the Slytherin house gone home to their families, that left Harry and Tom to reside in the commons, as well as a few other students.

At his normal spot by the fire, Harry twiddled with his fingers, inviting the warmth of the fire, wearing one of the many sweaters Mrs. Weasley had made him from the previous years. Toes curled in some long socks, he was decked out in winter pajamas to keep from the cold. He watched the flames while Tom read one of the many books of patronuses, not even letting the holidays act as a break for his searching and studying.

Harry curiously watched him, surprised of his lack of warm clothing as he only wore a pair of sweatpants and a short sleeve grey shirt. "Aren't you cold?"

The boy only shook his head, silently turning the page of the book in his hand. Sighing, Harry switched positions, curling up to stop the cold from spreading. He really did hate the dungeons.

Tom cocked a head in his direction, seeing the boy rubbing his shoulders with his hands. "You've been here for months. Aren't you used to the cold?"

"I'm not really used to the draft you feel down here. It's like everyone else is really a snake like the house symbol. Well not me." He chuckled, noting that even in the Gryffindor commons he'd still double on blankets.

Harry checked the clock above the fire place, smiling when seeing the time. "Merry Christmas, Tom." He said gently, closing his eyes and allowing his memories to flood his mind, from the first holiday spent in the castle when he got his cloak, to his most recent one where (before the Death eaters attacked) he pleasantly spent the long break at the Burrow with the Weasleys.

Tom let his eyes rest on the clock, scowling to himself at another Christmas without any presents or any family to spend it with. He really did envy the students who got to go home to their parents. He resented his own for being too weak to live on and spend it with him. "Very merry indeed." He said sarcastically, bringing his attention back down to his book.

The other boy didn't let him lose himself in his reading for to long, and instead ran up to his dorm room, coming back down with something behind his back. Tom sent him a look, wondering what he was hiding. "What is it, Greyhorn?"

Harry only approached him with a grin on his face, sinking to his knees next to Riddle, the wrapped box behind his hand. "Now, I didn't have that much money or anything, so it's nothing special."

Tom's eyes widened at the words, stretching his neck to get a good look at the object behind Harry's back. "What did you get me?" He said, completely shocked someone would bother buying him a present.

Harry held out the neatly wrapped box. It was the size of the boy's hand. Tom met his eyes, seeing the boy holding a genuine smile. Hesitantly, he grabbed the present, rolling it over a few times, hearing little clunks inside the box. Biting his lip, he pushed his curly brown hair out of his face to get a good look at it. Tearing open a small piece of the brown paper. Exposing the brown box, he realized just how excited he was to open this. Ripping off the rest of the paper and turning the box in his hand, he opened the top, looking down at the object. His expression was blank.

"D-do you like it?" Harry said, but noticing the lack of reaction, his face fell. "I'm sorry. I know it's lame but-"

Tom cut him off. "I really really like it, Harry. But why?" He said, pulling out the crystal snow globe of the castle itself. Giving it a shake, he stared as the snowflakes swirled through the liquid.

The other boy smiled. "Well, I thought you could use a gift. You've never had one before and I couldn't live knowing someone hasn't experienced the joys of opening a present on Christmas."

Rolling the globe in his hand, finally a smile reached his face. Harry had never seen one on the Riddle boy before, and it gave him a weird feeling, knowing it was him who caused the emotion to show on his face. Tom seemed actually happy for the first time since Harry had met him.

"I'm sorry I didn't get you anything back. I didn't know we were doing presents." He said, placing the gift aside to look at Harry. It send chills down both the boy's spines.

"Next year, my friend." He replied.

Tom Riddle pondered the word for a second. He'd never had one, so he didn't know if they qualified as friends. But he liked the idea of Harry being his friend.

* * *

Harry tossed and turned in his bed, it being far too cold to actually fall asleep. After spending a whole hour debating, the boy finally got up, slowly and cautiously moving out of his dorm and down the hall. He truly did appreciate everyone leaving school for the break, as it left it much easier for the boy to sneak into Riddle's dorm.

Studying the boy's form, breathing in and out through the covers, Harry envied his ability to handle this cool December chill. Tip toeing through the dark, he moved to the other beds in the room, picking the one next to Tom, careful not to make noise.

Little did he know, the boy sleeping could wake at a pin drop. "What are you doing in here?"

Harry jumped, turning quickly to Tom, who even in the dark, ridden with sleep, managed to look so handsome. _God wait till you get older and become half snake, Riddle. You won't be handsome anymore._ "I couldn't sleep. I was freezing, and then just didn't want to be alone." He paused, embarrassed for being caught, thankful no lights were on to expose his red cheeks. "I thought I'd just sleep in Zabini's bed or something."

Tom thought for a second. "You're cold?" Harry nodded. The other boy scooted over in his bed, raising the covers invitingly. "Come here, then. I'm pretty warm."

The blush on Harry's cheeks grew even more. "Sh-share with you?"

"Yeah." Tom re-positioned in bed, growing impatient. "That's what friends do right?"

Harry nodded bashfully, breathing in and moving towards the bed, slipping in and sighing in the welcomed warmth. "Gosh, this is way warmer than my bed." He admitted, laying his head down on the pillow.

He felt an equally warm hand touch his arm. "Your skin is as cold as ice." Tom stated.

"Yeah, there really must be a draft under my bed." Harry half whispered. He tested him boundaries, moving his socked feet closer toward's Tom's, feeling warmth radiating off him. When their feet touched, he pulled back. "Sorry." He breathed.

Tom was stiff under the blanket, but touching was expecting. "It's okay to come closer."

Harry gladly took the invitation, allowing his limbs to go to Tom's, already warmer than before.

The two boys stayed in silence, neither able to fall back asleep, but both comfortable. Tom permitted Harry to touch their legs to share his heat. And laying there, he followed his thoughts back to something that's been bothering him all week. "Hey, Harry?"

"Yes, Tom."

He gulped, unsure on how to word the question. "What does love feel like?"

Harry thought of Ginny. He supposed he had loved her during the year. And during the kiss they shared, he felt like he was flying. "It feels consuming." He explained further. "Not like an infatuation you get when you're around someone. But like a devotion. You only think about being with them, even when they're not around."

"I take it you've been in love, then."

Harry couldn't tell for sure, but he nodded. "Love doesn't have to be only with your soul mate, or someone you date. It could be for family, or friends. Or even an animal you love." He smiled to himself. "And not to mention, when your with someone, I mean _really_ with someone, you get to do all sort of fun stuff."

"Fun stuff?" Tom asked, oblivious.

Harry groaned. "Yeah... Like _fun_ stuff." When the other boy said nothing, he chuckled. "Do I have to spell it out for you? Gosh, Tom. Sex."

Tom had a coughing fit, turning his head while Harry laughed at the boy. "In the name of Merlin, are you ever subtle?"

"Not my fault you're innocent. You haven't done anything have you?"

"Have you?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing more than masturbation. I've never been with anyone who I was willing to do anything with."

Tom scoffed. "I'd hope not. You're fourteen."

 _That's what you think._ Harry thought, knowing his mental age was sixteen.

The room was quiet again, Tom being the first one to say something. "I've never masturbated." He admitted, shamefully. "I don't really know how to."

This was a shock to Harry. But the boy didn't grow up the same way he had, and Hogwarts only teaches you so much. So without Dudley and his friends spilling there guts to each other, and the boy overhearing, he may not know what it meant either. "It's amazing."

"What does it feel like?" Tom asked.

Now the conversation was beginning to get a bit tense, Harry thinking about showing the boy. He could imagine showing Riddle this side of the world, the pleasurable side. Hot moans from the boy as Harry's hands raked up and down-

"Don't hold back on my now, Greyhorn. This information is important if I'm going to experience love. I'll need to be experienced in this as well."

Harry interrupted his next thought. "Sex and love aren't always connected-"

"But it's something people care about. I don't want to miss out on anything that could bring me closer to making a patronus." Tom insisted.

The other boy sighed. "You really wanna know what pleasure feels like?" He asked, noting the growing excitement in his stomach. "I'll show you."

Tom's eyes widened as Harry inched closer in the bed, hand reaching out to touch the boy's chest. "Is this okay between friends?" He asked, incredibly confused. But he didn't dare stop the boy, feeling himself already growing slightly aroused as he thought of Harry touching him like that.

"Think of it as an experiment. Friends do it all the time." He lowered his hand down to the low of Riddle's belly. "Is this good?" He asked, making sure it was consensual.

Tom only nodded, eyes already closing in anticipation. Harry took that as the green light, snaking his hand down to feel the other boy's bulge, already reacting to the interactions.

Over the sweatpants, Harry rubbed at the spot, hardening Tom to fully introduce him to the feeling. The Slytherin's breathing grew heavier. Harry smirked.

Using his whole body, he moved himself over the boy, catching him off guard as they stared at each other, not seeing much in the dark, but enough. "Close your eyes." Harry instructed, Tom happily obliging. "I'm going to kiss you. Just move your lips with mine."

Leaning completely down, touching his cool lips to Riddle's warm ones, he stared with simple contact. Feeling Tom take a deep breath in, he began moving his lips, taking the top one of Riddles in between his own. Tom was extremely cautious, unsure on if he should move his lips yet. The other boy seemed much more comfortable, somehow much more experienced. He let his hips fall down while they kissed, both their groins touching. The pressure caused Tom to moan silently, deep and caught in his throat. Harry used the opportunity to sneak his tongue in, both mouths melting together at full speed.

He focused down below, moving his hips with Tom's feeling the other boy's boner against his own. Removing his lips, Harry let his head fall onto the side of the pillow next to Tom's head, stuffing the face down for more contact. His hips moving down harder caused waves of pleasure to begin raking Harry's body. Letting raspy moans escape into the pillow, he got even more pleasure hearing Tom breathing heavily next to him, eyes closed in ecstasy and lip caught between his teeth, biting hard enough to draw blood.

The friction between the two boys was enough to send both over the edge, and Harry welcomed the familiar orgasmic feeling. Tom on the other hand lasted a bit longer, him feeling a tightening ball in the pit of his stomach, curiously reaching out for it in his mind. And as if unlocking a door, Harry's moans sent one last buck of Tom's hips up towards the other boys, feeling a wash of his own orgasm hit him. "Ugh, Harry." He hissed out, gripping tightly on the boy's hips, holding them in place as he felt a stream of something warm shoot out of his clothed member.

Both boys breathing heavily, shook with pleasure and fleeting energy, stayed calmly still. Harry rolled onto his side, off of Tom but still close. He had to admit, this feeling was much better than any old masturbation experience he's ever had. No, this was more intense, and almost more special. "How was that?" He asked tiredly.

Tom was still coming down from his high, squeezing Harry's hand, breathes becoming normal again. "That was..." He didn't even have a word for it at first. "Extremely intense."

The two boys laid there silent for the rest of the night, letting sleep overcome them after their use of energy.


	5. New Feelings

New Years swung around much faster than Harry anticipated. It was the day before all the students would be returning from their break. Him and Tom had an unspoken rule never to talk about what had happened on Christmas, leaving it only in their minds while they continued their study of the patronus.

The two boys were now in Hogsmeade, walking around due to Harry wanting some Butterbeer and Tom only sticking around for the company. He had grown quite fond of Harry, allowing him to spend any free time with the boy. It was all new to Riddle, having a friend. Or at least, whatever they were. Waking up from the sticky mess in his pants Christmas morning was a prime indicator that the boys weren't friends. He didn't know exactly what they were.

Tom had to admit his trust for the boy was still limited ever since the outburst between them in the commons the first time they ever talked. He couldn't bring himself to let his guard down around the boy completely, seeing as he had known so much without no explanation. Maybe Harry was a mind reader, and had dug around in the subconscious of Tom's head. Either way, he was mysterious, and although good company, Riddle continued keeping an eye out.

"Have you ever had butterbeer?" Harry asked him, ordering two for them and leading the boy to a table.

"I don't come to Hogsmeade much. Waste of time that could be used to study." Tom said honestly, sitting down staring at the drink curiously. He had heard of the sweet syrupy goodness of the concoction. However, he wasn't much of an outdoors type of person, therefore he never particularly enjoyed coming into the village. To many people, to much noise.

"Oh good Merlin. Try it right now." Harry pushed eagerly, grabbing his own mug to take a hearty swig.

Tom sighed, picking up the liquid and staring down at the foamy golden drink. "Whatever lets you sleep at night." He brought the rim to his lips and sipped the butterbeer, grimacing at the overwhelming sweetness. "Oh god, this is absolutely-" He stopped, moving his tongue to the top of his mouth, getting a feel for the aftertaste. Harry gave him an amused look as he took another swig.

"Good, huh?"

"A bit to sweet for my palette." Was all Tom could say, but it hadn't stopped him from trying the drink again.

Harry only laughed, finishing his butterbeer with no time to spare.

* * *

The green eyed boy skipped into the commons, candy in his pocket and a smile on his face. No classes, trips to Hogsmeade, he truly appreciated the meaning of the holidays. Tom followed the boy in cautiously, watching him practically bounce off the walls with his sugar high. "You really went wild with the candy." He said, taking a seat on the sofa, moving one leg over the other.

Harry plopped on his usual seat, kicking off his shoes and letting them fall to the ground. "I love Hogsmeade candy. Just as amazing now as it will be in the-" He stopped himself, just giggling in the place of where his words would have been.

"You really are a strange one, Greyhorn." Tom said, not used to this bubbly side of Harry. From the first day he'd met the boy, he'd always been such a loner, skipping out on meals, not talking to anyone, only going to classes and Quidditch practices and then going to bed. But it truly seemed like the boy had flipped a switch ever since Christmas.

 _Christmas_ , Tom closed his eyes at the thought, still remembering the extreme pleasure this boy had gifted him. It was extremely messy in the morning, both boys having to shower to get the weird substance out from between their legs. But he still shook from the idea that such an activity exists. And as much as he tried to cleanse his mind from such thoughts, he wanted it to happen again. Tom feared to ask, not wanting Harry to turn back to his introvert self at the thought of moving their weird friendship into something taboo.

Harry, on the other hand, would welcome the idea of teaching Tom more about his body and the pleasures that come with it. Scared of asking for the same reason as Tom, he never acts upon his desires. But something about the night they shared not only gave him a confusing feeling about the boy who undoubtedly will turn evil in the future, but also give him hope that he can change the course of time.

Tom's interest in love, patronuses, even sex, that was something Voldemort never expressed. It means Harry being back in this timeline is really making a difference, which made the Gryffindor happier than usual. So he would show Tom anything he so desired if it meant undoing all the wrong Riddle will cause in the future.

"Do you wanna work on more patronus work?" Harry asked, turning his head to look at the boy.

The other boy's attention perked, surprised that he'd even offered. Tom had always assumed Harry got annoyed whenever the spell was mentioned. "Well, I'd already finished the books in the library on the patronus." He said. "But I'd like to see yours again."

He hadn't seen it since that day in the field around the Quidditch pitch. Harry smiled, sitting up in his chair and grabbing his wand.

"Maybe seeing it will help me find the power to conjure one myself." Tom clarified, even though Harry needed no confirmation.

"Expecto Patronum." He chanted, and they watched the beautiful silver stag prance through the room, bouncing off the walls and dancing through the air.

Tom's eyes widened in awe, clearly stuck in a trance at the way the stag moved. "It's fascinating." His tongue clicked while observing the thing. "I want to try it." He announced, standing up in front of Harry, who's patronus stopped, disappearing.

"Are you sure, Riddle? It might not-"

"I don't care. I've studied it all year, I want to try it." Tom snapped, not meaning to sound harsh. Harry frowned, knowing already the boy would not be able to produce the spell. But either way, he did not argue with the lad, letting him do what he wanted. "Expecto Patronum!" He said loudly, pointing his wand out and waiting for a burst of silver light. Not even an incorporeal patronus appeared.

Harry cleared his throat, watching as Tom's face turned red. "What are you thinking about when you try to cast?"

The other boy flopped down on the couch and shrugged. He let his head fall. "About how much I wanna see my patronus."

"Well..." Harry moved to sit with Tom on the couch, hand on his shoulder gently patting it. "That's the first problem. You need to think about something you love when you cast the spell."

"I don't love anything."

 _That's no surprise._ Harry swallowed, not knowing what else to say to the boy. He had already explained the importance of love in the spell. Without it, there would be no hope in conjuring it.

"What do you think my patronus is?" Tom lifted his gaze up to Harry.

"A serpent." He had replied honestly, thinking of the Slytherin's future pet, Nagini.

Tom, however, seemed to disagree. "That's to simple." He had stated. "Anyone could guess that'd be my patronus. But I resent that."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I'm so much more than just a Slytherin, Harry." Tom stated, face blank. "I'm so much more than the symbol of my house. People think I love this house so much." He breathed in sharply. "Slytherin is just the surface. There's so much more." He looked at Harry, an intense stare into the boy's eyes. "Remember when you called me nothing? Said even I knew that I was nothing?"

Harry bit his lip, not knowing where this was going, but the way Tom was staring at him caused a deep feeling to emerge. He could see the pain, the desperation in the boy's eyes. Knowing Riddle possessed any type of emotion gave Harry a feeling he'd never felt for the boy. Empathy. "I'm sorry about that-"

"You were wrong that day." Tom said, moving dangerously close to the boy. "I am everything, Harry. I know I am so much more than my muggle father and my weak wizard mother." He gave the boy a hopeful smile. "I want to prove to this world that I won't let muggle blood stop me from being great."

The boys were silent after that, Harry being more than shocked with the boy's announcement. He finally thinks he's starting to understand Tom. The root of his insecurity. He wants people to see him as more than a half blooded orphan. He wants to be powerful. And Harry realized, the boy wasn't looking to be evil. If he could find a way to rise to power without seeing murder and domination as the answer, Tom could be an amazing wizard. Along the ranks of even Dumbledore.

Harry beamed at the boy, excited to begin working on reprogramming Tom's goal. He didn't need to be malicious. He could be an inspiration to all. In all the excitement, Harry didn't catch the pull in his mind tell him to lean forward. He didn't catch it until it was to late.

Both boys closed their eyes at the contact, lips working together, moving to a certain rhythm. Tom was the first person to pull away, staring wide eyed at Harry. "What was that for?"

Harry only shook his head, using his hands to hold Tom's shoulders, pressing the boy's foreheads together. He had these weird feelings surfacing in his mind, and he could only hope the other boy felt the same. "You're going to do amazing things." He said, allowing their breathing to sync up. They stayed like that for a while, both boys noticing a change in their thoughts for each other.


	6. Certainly Not Friends

Harry reread the last line of Dumbledore's letter one more time, tears rolling down his face. _By any cost, we can't let a future like this unravel._

Moving his illuminated wand across the page, he let those words ring through his mind. Sure, he was making good progress with Tom. Even succeeding in earning the boy's trust (ever so limited). The boy was coming out of his shell with Harry, confiding in him his goals, and allowing the boy to kiss him.

Harry was close, he felt it. He needed to show Tom the good that resided inside of him. But it was times like this, in the middle of the night on January 2nd, that he felt the most alone. His friends not even born yet, him staying in a house that is not his own. The only thoughts running through his mind were going home and giving Ron and Hermione the biggest of hugs.

Letting the tears continue to fall down his face, he stayed still, not wanting to make any noise that would result in his roommates waking up. But Harry Potter, the boy out of time, was ever so alone.

Looking at the ceiling, he felt his teeth buckle from the chill. He swore there was a draft somewhere in here.

Sighing, he got out of the bed, mind wandering at the familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach. He needed to be with someone, not the spineless Slytherins who always managed to remind him the prime reason why he hated Draco Malfoy. He needed someone who had a sliver of care for him. And with no one else around, Harry thought of only one person.

The way to Tom's room was stitched in his mind, the boy navigating through the dark halls into the dorm that had brought him so much comfort. The thrill of not being alone this time around was a present concern, but he didn't care about any of that.

Cringing from the creak the door made, he slipped through the room, squinting in the dark for Riddle's bed. Once there, he lifted his glasses off of his face, folding the arms and placing them on the nightstand next to the bed. "Tom." It was barely a whisper, but the other boy had already been awake, laying under the covers watching Harry approach.

Without anything being said, he lifted the covers up, allowing the boy to sneak in. Harry turned his body to his side in order to look at Tom. They said nothing, only laid and stared, hesitant about making any noise for fear one of the other students would catch them.

Tom's hand snaked under the blanket, finding one of Harry's hand. Lacing their fingers, they stayed like that until the Slytherin boy spoke up. "What are we?" He asked, nearly inaudible, a question apparent in his mind since the kiss from the other day.

Harry tightened his jaw, breathing out slowly, unsure on how to handle the situation. There was no doubt of the unspoken tension between the boys. That being said, the boy knew there could be no such future.

With the lack of response, Tom grew anxious, a tight ball appearing in his stomach. He wanted so bad for an answer to be clarified. Maybe then he could make sense of the weird feelings he had tucked away for the mysterious boy. He had been thinking about it all day, sneaking glances at the boy to catch even the slightest sign he wasn't the only one with these confusing feelings.

"Harry..." He tried again. Still no answer. Tom decided to take the matter into his own hand, closing his eyes and mustering up all of his courage. He brought his head forward, lips searching until they found their target.

Harry sighed into the kiss, eyes closing with contact. It surprised him that the other boy had taken the lead, moving his lips consciously against his own. Moving his unoccupied hand, he touched the side of Tom's face, tracing the jawline that could cut diamond. To deepen the kiss, Harry sucked slightly on the boy's upper lip.

Tom allowed his mouth to open slowly, letting his tongue tease the other boy. This led to Harry doing the same, their tongues starting a game of war for dominance. It was slow, passionate, but not as gentle as their kiss from before.

Pulling back, Tom caught some air from the intense kiss. The pit in his stomach only grew tighter though, and he knew the only way to fix that. Forcing Harry's hand down to the waistband on his sweats, he pleaded, "Touch me."

It was rushed, but Harry quickly moved over Tom, hands finding the pants, ready to tear them down. "I'm gonna take these off." He announced, still in a quiet whisper. They were playing a dangerous game with the other boys able to wake up at any time. "It'll be less messier."

Tom nodded quickly, bringing his hands to the sides of Harry's face to kiss him more, anticipation building as the other boy worked on bringing down both the pants and underwear.

Harry concentrated on both kissing Tom and making sure he felt good. Moving a little more slowly than the other boy would like, he paused the kiss to look down at the form of his member, already erect and begging to be touched. "Pl-please." The boy squirmed under him as his hand wrapped around the length, feeling its way from the top to the base, already wet with pre-cum.

Continuing the kiss, Harry began pumping slowly, starting off gentle to let Tom get used to the feeling. The boy wiggled, hips bucking up to his hand. Writhing in pleasure he was no longer able to maintain a neat kiss, as it got more sloppy, tongues dancing around, sucking, smacking.

Tom moaned, surprising both boys with the noise. Harry stopped the kiss immediately, bringing his free hand up to cover the boy's mouth. "Can't go waking them up now, can we?" He motioned to the other lads in their beds. The idea of being quiet seemed to turn on Tom even more, him having to close his eyes in bliss. He could feel the pit in his stomach getting tighter, welcoming the orgasm he was about to receive.

Harry began pumping harder, sensing the boy's high approaching. He used a bit more force which sent Tom over the edge, biting down on his teeth, breathing heavy and uneven.

Harry felt the warm stream of thick cum shoot at his hand, showing the job had been finished successfully. Moving off from the boy, he laid back down beside him, taking a tissue from the side of the bed to wipe the mess from his hand. "How was that?" He asked Riddle, turning to face the boy who's face was still occupied with the rakes of pleasure. He found himself hard at the sight.

Tom smiled to himself, meeting the eyes of the boy, noting that even in the dark he was still a sight to see. "I want to make you feel the same way." He had admitted, already readying himself. Before moving towards the boy, though, he stopped himself, asking sheepishly, "If that's okay."

The thought of Tom touching him made the boy as hard as a rock, gladly welcoming the touch. "Y-yes." He stuttered out, feeling himself go stiff when a hand was at his waist, sliding down his cool skin till reaching his pants. Helping Tom out, he removed his pants, letting them rest at his knees.

The other boy gasped slightly at the feel of Harry's member, warm from rushing blood, and eager for the touch. He began repeating the same process used for himself pumping Harry up and down, twisting his wrist slightly to get more of a grip.

Harry was already a complete wreck, toes curling at the ecstasy-like feeling of Tom's hand moving around him like that. It didn't take long for him to reach the same high as Tom, streams of cum shooting on his hand. Quickly, Harry grabbed another tissue, biting his lip from the pleasure, but not wanting Tom's sheets to get too dirty again. Wiping up the semen, he tossed the tissue and looked back at the other boy, who seemed proud of his accomplishment.

"That was amazing." Harry said, furthering Tom's pride. He gave him a quick, but strong kiss that lingered a little bit on Tom's lips.

When they had pulled back, Tom brought a hand to Harry's forehead, brushing back the hair there. "You're amazing." He said before moving onto his back, head towards the ceiling.

Harry smiled, his heart beating and his mind racing.

"Hey, Harry?"

"Yes, Tom?"

Barely above a whisper, the boy confessed, "We're certainly not friends, are we?"

"No, Tom. I don't think we are."


	7. Coming Across A Bit Of Trouble

Harry and Tom undoubtedly have one of the weirdest non-friendships ever is the Riddle boy must say so himself. He found himself wanting to touch Harry, be around him, tell him every secret he's ever kept. But at the same time, he wanted his distance, not wanting to even look at the boy let alone kiss him. He wound up working himself up every time he tried to make sense of his feelings.

The two boys spent all of November and December talking about how to find Tom a girlfriend in order for him to experience love and finally conjure a patronus. Now all the studying seemed up in the air as well as his and Harry's relationship. It was unspeakable between them. A secret to be kept by all means necessary, which typically involved sneaking around in the middle of the night, bringing tons of tissues with them to clean up every mess they made.

An upside to all of this, however, is Tom is beginning to know a lot more about his body and the things one can do with it. Sitting in the astronomy tower for class, he couldn't help but reminisce.

 _"You want to put your mouth where?" His eyes widened as Harry was down by his groin, staring up at him, planting gentle kisses on his abdomen. He could handle hands, and grinding, but he's never experienced any oral before._

 _Harry only shot him a smile and a wink, continuing to tease the boy, planting kisses dangerously close to his member, Tom letting his head fall back. They were in an old abandoned bathroom far across the castle by the Slytherin commons. No boys when there because the toilets don't flush correctly. Perfect place for fooling around._

 _"Trust me, okay?" His green eyes put a lot more comfort in Tom as he watched the boy curiously begin. It was quite obvious Harry had never done this type of thing either, taking his time. He pressed his lips on the tip, a string of precum following his mouth when he pulled away. Tom couldn't help but grimace when the boy tested the taste. He could only imagine how salty it all must be._

 _"Are you sure about this, Harry?" He clarified once again, really not sure how any of this would be fun._

 _"Oh you just wait." He had said, before going down on Tom, head bobbing up and down on his cock. Immediately the Slytherin felt like he'd died and gone to heaven. The warm inside of Harry's mouth sucking and licking up and down his shaft caused his eyes to roll back._

 _And to think he was almost not going to let the boy have his way._

Tom let his eyes wander to the stars above them in the astronomy tower. Harry had Divination right now, a class he couldn't be bothered with, personally. But he understood the appeal of looking into the future, no matter how much rubbish it all was.

Today was quite a slow day in the castle. It was mid-January and most students were preparing for the big Quidditch game being held today after classes. Tom didn't get all the hype the sport drew in. He had never had the desire to either play nor watch. Of course Harry had practically begged the boy to come see at least one game, seeing as he'd missed the November one.

It wasn't that he'd wanted to miss it, but he had decided patronus studying was far more important than a Quidditch match. He tried to convince Harry to miss it as well, but that proved difficult as the boy was on the team.

Tom secretly loathed Quidditch for pulling alone time away from the two boys. One the weekends Harry would practice, leaving the other lad to sit alone in his room. He didn't like those mornings.

* * *

Tom glared from across the room at Harry. Within the next week, the boy must have made a few more friends since he never seemed to want to be around the Slytherin boy anymore. During lunch time, he found the boy across the Dining Hall at the Gryffindor table nonetheless, talking with that filthy half-giant Hagrid.

He didn't understand what he'd done to make the boy mad, not recalling anything completely memorable.

After lunch he went back to the commons, reading one of the many textbooks he'd already seemed to finish about twenty times. Looking to his left, he saw Harry moving to the same chair he always wanted to sit at, even if Tom was all the way across the room. With what seemed like hours, (but was only like ten minutes) he had come to the decision he was sick of the silent treatment.

Huffing, he threw the book aside, not giving a damn about the glares he got from the prefects. Walking pointedly to the dumb commons chair, he stood directly in front of Harry. His green eyes were closed and he had quite a peaceful expression on his face. Not for long.

"Bathroom, now." Tom demanded, hoping some fooling around would halt the hiatus.

"Nah, I'm quite good, here." Harry replied, turning his body away from Riddle.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Tom pulled at the boy's arm, trying to drag him out of the chair. That only made Harry angry. "Get the bloody hell off me, Riddle."

Tom backed up, surprised at the outburst. Moving his eyes slowly to see if anyone was looking, he silently thanked Merlin that none of the prefects noticed. "What's your problem, Greyhorn?" He hissed, going on his knees to talk closer to Harry. He didn't want things to get out of control, so he lowered his voice.

Harry's eyes shot open, staring the other boy down. "You want to know?" He asked, completely not in the mood.

"Yes, Harry. I want to know." Tom deadpanned.

"You are the problem."

Crossing his arms, Tom moved back a little on his knees. "What did I do?"

"You're kidding me, right?" Harry got a bit red in the face, obviously mad. "I don't usually ask you for a lot, Tom. I feel like I give you space when you need it, I let you have your stupid study time, I don't complain when you're in one of your weird moods. I suck your bloody _cock_ to keep you happy." He widened the word cock, and Tom nervously made sure no one heard anything. "But when I ask you for one thing- one bloody request, you can't seem to go through with it."

 _The Quidditch game_ , Tom pursed his lips, remembering the match he so didn't want to watch. Oh he'd shown up, watched a few minutes of it, but the only reason he'd gone was for Harry and he wasn't really doing anything. As a Seeker, the boy basically sits on a broom the whole time waiting for the snitch to make an appearance. "You're mad because I didn't stay for the dumb game?" Maybe those weren't the best words to use.

"Dumb?" Harry fumed. "Don't talk to me." He got out of the chair and walked away, leaving Tom on the ground to think about what he'd just said.

* * *

 _Stupid, stubborn, ridiculous boy._ Tom didn't understand why Harry was making such a big deal over nothing. It's not like he'd missed a birthday, it was a Quidditch match.

Tired of watching Harry talk to everybody but Riddle, he barricaded himself in the library, getting permission from Professor Slughorn to get books on patronuses from the restricted section. It seemed to please the professor by no end that someone was so interested in the patronus. Even though he himself wasn't the Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, he gladly wrote a note allowing Tom to search.

He had spent most of the hour in the library, pulling out book after book, planning on checking every section for the thing. With no hope, he'd given up, mostly just rereading things he'd already picked up.

Madame Fairwater, the librarian, approached him in the restricted section, a smile on her face to see him deep in study. "Mr. Riddle," He looked up from his book, "Unfortunately I'm gonna have to ask you to go to dinner now, but you are free to come back tomorrow and search around if you desire."

Tom shot her a charming smile, before politely taking his leave, proud to be admitting in there again. He knew the teachers here loved him, for his hard work ethic to his charming personality. It was no secret he'd be considered a star pupil.

Strolling through the corridors, Tom knew he would rather die at the moment than return to the Dining Hall where Harry would definitely be ignoring him once again. Not feeling much hungry anyway, he decided to take another route to the Slytherin commons, not eager to go back there either.

Alone in the halls, he moved around, greeting passing portraits, taking a walk around nearly every commons room, every bathroom and class. He wasn't thinking about much, just about how he was going to get Harry to talk to him again. It wasn't till he heard something calling his name that he stopped in his tracks.

... _Tomm Riddlleee..._ The voice wasn't remotely a normal sound. It was drawn out, hissy, as if this man was talking through an echo-y room.

"Hello?" Tom looked around, seeing no one else in the corridor beside him.

 _You won't be able to ssssee me, Tom._

"Who is this?" Tom said, looking around him once more, making sure it wasn't another Slytherin playing a joke on him.

 _We've got a lot to discussssss._

* * *

Harry couldn't believe it. Tom had up and left the Quidditch match and now he's acting like that's no reason to be mad? Hell no!

He knows how much Quidditch means to the boy, them having millions of discussions on the matter. It wasn't about Tom in that moment. It was about Harry. That's why he was so mad. He was mad that Tom couldn't be bothered to watch. He was mad that he had the audacity to say that the game was dumb. And lastly, he was frustrated at himself for putting any trust in the other boy at all.

Harry knew who Tom was, and for some reason the more he was getting to know the lad, the more he was growing fond of him. That's what scared him. He was supposed to be showing Tom what love is, saving him from the future monster he was about to become. Everything got all screwed up when his own feelings got involved.

He found himself wanting to be around the boy even now when he was angry, because right now, he was all Harry had right now. Even though he had met so many familiar faces, such as Hagrid, Dumbledore, even Slughorn, all he could think about is the relationship between him and Tom.

Everything had been going smoothly, Harry trying to show him how to conjure a patronus, searching for girls to teach him about love. Now, he'd gotten too close, and way too attached. Realizing he had compromised the mission, he thought maybe space from the boy was the best.

But even now, alone in his room, all he could ask himself is 'I wonder what Tom is doing right now.'

And little did he know.

 **Author's Note: Real quick, I wanna know. Who do you think should top? Harry or Tom?**


	8. The L Word?

Waking up with a weird headache wasn't the best start to his day. Harry seemed to feel the weird pain behind his forehead more and more in the last week. He knew it had something to do with why Tom was missing from the Dining Hall and commons. But ever since their little quarrel, they haven't much time to catch up.

The whole thing was messed up, and Harry spent most of his time worrying for the boy, thinking about him every moment of the day. Too bad he was too stubborn to talk to the boy. He had the strangest idea that there was something between them, actually coming to terms that maybe Harry was the one who was fit to change Tom after all. But maybe he had the wrong idea seeing as Riddle seemed to have no care for him whatsoever.

Still, it was an eerie feeling not having him around. Residing in his room, Harry looked through his things, Hedwig by his side. He was looking around for the letter from Dumbledore, seeing if there was anything on the paper that could inspire him to do something about Tom. He really did have feelings for the boy, that much he knew. Whether or not that was the right thing was the real question here. It was times like this where he really didn't care. He wanted to be with Tom, no matter what.

Clutching the letter in his hand, he moved back over to his bed, laying on his back and closing his eyes for a second, taking a moment to let his head rest. After calming himself down quite a bit, he looked over the familiar handwriting of his late headmaster, having nearly every word memorized.

Everything was silent in his room, all the dorm mates downstairs playing some wizard games before breakfast. Harry was at such peace that he didn't notice the brewing tension in the commons until shouting had occurred.

"Call me that again!"

Harry's eyes shot open at the familiar voice. Knowing all too well who that could belong to, he debated leaving it be. But the push-pull feeling in his stomach was a sure indicator that he wouldn't be able to let this one go.

Meanwhile, Tom had forced his way through the crowd of worthless bullies to the main problem. Christopher Veramencium. Grade A poser. "You think you're better than me?" He threateningly pointed his wand at the boy's throat, every intention to kill. "Wait till everyone hears about the precious secret your father has been trying to keep for years!" His blue eyes flashed malevolence, and Harry made it down the stairs, shoving his shoe on. He watched in horror the scene playing out in front of him. "Your mother is a _squib_."

Christopher pushed the boy back, Tom only laughing at the pain he'd caused while the other lad ran out of the room in pure embarrassment. But it didn't seem like Riddle was stopping, pushing his wand to Crabbe or Goyle, Harry could never tell.

"Who's next?"

Before anymore could escalate, Harry stepped in, a stern frown on his face that he'd most likely picked up from McGonagall over the years. "Tom."

Blue met green in a clash and Tom immediately lost his prided ego, the smile replaced with a guilty frown. "Harry." It was barely above a whisper. Noticing the stares still on him, he quickly changed his expression. "Anyone else who messes with me with genuinely regret it."

It was obvious he'd gotten the point across.

Harry followed Tom out, upset beyond relief at the sight he'd witnessed. The boy was making progress, not bothering any other student, only using his seductive but intimidating charm on unsuspecting teachers. But he was back on the set course of time, the course Harry was trying so hard to prevent.

"Tom!" Harry called out to the boy, watching him freeze in his tracks, turning sharply.

"Not right now." He warned, voice dangerously lower than normal.

Harry crossed his arms. "Oh, so you're threatening me, now?" He took a step closer to Tom. "Is that what we're doing?"

"Since when is there a 'we'? You made it pretty clear these last few weeks you don't want to talk to me."

"I didn't think you would want me to!" Harry felt himself grow frustrated.

Tom let out a loud laugh, a sneer on his face. "And why would I not want you to talk to me?"

"Because you obviously don't give a damn about me, Tom!"

This shut the boy up, his face softening as he stared straight at Harry. Both boys looked exhausted, clear to both neither was sleeping that well. Tom started walking to the boy, a straight expression on his face. He was done with the games. It was about time the two of them talked. "Bathroom."

* * *

Harry sat on the sink, back pressed against the cool surface of the mirror. There was a stubborn look on both boys faces, no one stepping up to start the conversation. With no one talking, the atmosphere grew more and more repressed.

Tom stared at the pale face of Harry, taking in every wrinkle, stress mark, bag that had formed since the last time they've talked. He really did look beat up. And the he couldn't help but take part of the blame.

Harry stared down at his shoes, not sure whether or not he should say what's on his mind just yet. They'd been in the bathroom for nearly ten minutes. The silence was uncomfortable, sort of chilling.

"I'm-"

"Are-"

Both boys blushed when they began first, cutting each other off. "You first." Harry said to Tom, lifting his head to make eye contact.

"I was just going to say that I'm sorry." He said, surprising both of them with his honesty. "I didn't think missing your game would honestly hurt you that much."

Harry sighed, leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees and resting his chin. "Quidditch is the only constant thing in my life, Tom. I know you don't understand, but I would've thought you'd cared enough to make an effort."

"I care about you more than you know." Tom closed his eyes, feeling the effects of his actions. He'd been selfish. Only thinking about himself.

"And what about today? You're drifting away. Back to the old Tom who picked fights." Harry took a breath. "Who only wanted to assert dominance."

The other boy shrugged. "That Tom never went away." He clenched his fists. "Christopher called me a mudblood. I'm sick and tired of the shit."

With his eyes still closed, he didn't see Harry get up, nor did he see him lift a hand to Tom's back. Leaning into the touch, he was thankful it was still offered. "Why do you hate muggleborns so much?"

Tom looked up at the boy. "You know the answer to that." Harry blinked. "My dad was a muggle. He abandoned my mother before I was born, left her to die while giving birth to me." He spat on the ground, already feeling a swell of anger. "And my mother was even worse for falling in love with him anyway. She was weak and in the end, died, leaving me all alone to rot in that filthy orphanage." He paused, letting himself build up rage. "Muggles are weak. They don't belong anywhere in the wizarding world." He glared, looking down at his hands. "And they've tainted me with their blood."

Harry let out a breath, gently grabbing Tom's wrists, bringing him over to the sinks again and taking a seat, still holding onto Tom, letting his hand slide down to tangle their fingers together. "I knew a girl in my old school. Her name was Hermione." He smiled, remembering her mousy brown curls and knowing smile. "I was convinced she had read every book in the castle, and had memorized every single spell. She was a muggleborn witch." Tom gave a disgusted look, but before he could say anything, Harry cut him off with a kiss.

Eyes widened, Tom took a sharp intake of air with the surprise. When Harry pulled away, he continued. "She was proud of who she was and didn't let anyone tell her she was small. She learned every spell, aced every class, and proved everyone she was better than most of the pure bloods in the castle, and that her muggle heritage wouldn't slow her down from continuing to improve." He brushed Tom's hair back, biting his lip. "You are an amazing wizard. You are also a half blood. This does not mean you're weak. It gives you an opportunity to show even more when you prove you're stronger."

Blue eyes filled with tears, threatening to fall down his cheeks. Tom tried to look away, but Harry lifted his chin, forcing them to stare deeper at each other. "You're not tainted. You are beautiful." He pressed his lips gently to the side of his mouth, pulling away slowly, taking it all in.

A tear spilled out, but it was immediately wiped by Harry, who still had a hold of his chin, keeping it in place. "I'm so sorry, Harry." Tom's voice cracked, signalling his breaking point. "I don't know how I ever survived any of this without you. I care about you so much." He closed his eyes, feeling the wet stream of tears touch his cheek. "You are everything."

Harry pulled Tom in for another kiss, this one centered on his mouth, tasting the salty water from his eyes. Moving his lips, he deepened the kiss, moving his arms around the boy's neck to pull him closer. Spreading his legs wide, Tom had enough room to close all gaps between their body.

Pausing for air, Tom desperately said, "I'll go to every game. Every practice if I have to." He closed their space again, hastily needing the touch. Letting his hands wander, they explored the surface under Harry's shirt.

The boy pulled away to reply, "Don't go getting into any more fights." After nodding quickly, they both kissed again, feeling every inch of each other before Harry unzipped his pants, Tom doing the same.

Harry initiated, gripping Tom's cock tensely, already moving up and down the shaft, eager to make his boy cum.

Tom repeated the gesture for Harry, tongues dancing with each other, desperate for each other's comfort.

The pressure of their hands touching the opposites' members mixed with the rubbing of their bodies and the passion of their kiss, both boys met their climax together, breathing heavily and in sync.

The two pulling apart, Tom bit his lip, not wanting noise to escape his mouth, while Harry on the other hand, was a moaning mess, whispering and mumbling. "Tom, oh yes, Tom! Gosh, Tom I lo-" His eyes shot open, mouth closing shut in fear of what he almost said.

Tom seemed unaware, just coming down from his high, wiping his forehead from the exercise. "You're absolutely amazing, Harry." He said, placing his head in the crook of the boy's neck.

Harry, still shaken by his almost slip up, only nodded, saying gently, "You too, Tom."


	9. Valentine's Day

**Author's Note: One Quick thing. Thank you to everyone reading, favoriting, following, reviewing. You honestly fuel me with your positivity. So seriously thank you so much :) These next chapters are probably either gonna be plot builds, or fluff. School's starting on Wednesday so I'm hoping to finish the story by then.** **Enjoy!**

 **P.S. I reread my 'smut scenes' all the time, and a comment made me realize I'm honestly such trash at writing them. Haha there will still be more scenes like those, building up to their major smut scene or something along those lines, but I just want to formally apologize for how awkward they are. This is my first time writing a story like this.**

* * *

 _You can't have him... He'ssSsSss all mine._

Harry tossed and turned, a pounding headache behind his forehead. It's grown more frequent, and this weird voice would once in a while show up. It gave him quite an ominous and familiar feeling.

"Harry?" Tom snaked an arm around the boy's waist. Harry immediately calmed, leaning back in to the touch. Tom was always calming him down lately. His thoughts took him to his near confession. "You've been squirming all night." He informed, peaking an eye open to check the time by the amount of light visible from the window.

The boy followed his gaze, sighing when he realized he'd have to get up. Allowing his limbs to stretch out, he cracked his neck. "I'm fine, Tom." He clarified before getting out of bed.

Tom copied the boy's actions, pulling on his bathrobe and heading towards the stairs. Once out of earshot of the other sleeping students, he moved next to Harry, placing a comforting hand over his shoulder. "You've been waking up with these headache's for a month now." He crossed his arms, stopping at their regular spot in the commons. "Don't think I haven't noticed you rubbing your scar every morning."

Harry's hand froze on the way up, clearly on the way to do as the boy had said. "It's nothing. I got these all the time." He lied, "Back in the other school."

"Where did you even get that scar, anyway?" Tom asked, plopping onto the couch while Harry slowly sat down on his chair, wincing at the pounding in his forehead.

Honestly, Harry was surprised this was coming up this late in their relationship. Most people back in his timeline already knew of his scar's history, so he wasn't used to the questions he got about it from here. Mostly teachers and some students had already bugged him about it relentlessly until they got their answer. And he had his story set out in order to dim down anyone's curiosity.

But as expected, giving this answer to Tom Riddle, the past self of the man- no, monster who gave him this scar, felt wrong. "I fell out of a tree, a branch caught my forehead. I was five."

Tom nodded, studying Harry's face, blank. His words were nearly robotic. "Okay... So what's the real story?"

Harry's eyes widened, looking at the boy. "What makes you think that wasn't the real story?"

"I would like to think I know when you're lying by this point." Tom chuckled.

"Well I wasn't lying about this." Harry lied.

Tom only shrugged, giving him a small smile. "Guess everyone has their secrets." His face fell a little during that sentence.

* * *

Tom rolled his eyes at all the Valentine's Day decorations littering all the halls. "This holiday is rubbish." He spat. "Just a silly excuse for dumb couples to celebrate their fake happiness."

Harry sighed. He'd never minded the holiday, smiling to himself at the memory of Ron getting stuck under a love potion for some girl he'd never met. It was scary at the time, but they'd found plenty of moments to laugh about it later. "It's not all that bad." His thoughts stung with the want to eat heart shaped chocolates by the fire with Tom.

"Oh don't tell me you actually indulge in today." Riddle stopped him, placing a hand at the center of his chest.

The other boy shrugged, not surprised in his disinterest. "I mean I do know one thing I do like to indulge in is the chocolate." Harry admitted, thinking of Remus as he said that. The man's love for chocolate goodness was iconic. "Plus," He eyed Tom's face. "The reason you hate the holiday so much is because you've never had anyone to spend it with." A hopeful look reached his eyes.

Tom chuckled, shaking his head. "I take it you have something planned?"

"Not exactly. I'm more of a go with the flow, type of guy." Riddle crinkled his nose, unfamiliar with the saying. "I'm improvising." He clarified. "So you should just give it a chance."

Tom turned his had to scan the almost empty hallways. Only a few students were around this corridor at the time, minding their own business. Quickly, Tom leaned in to kiss Harry gently on the side of his mouth. "I'll give it a tiny chance. But don't have high expectations for my reaction."

Nodding in accomplishment, Harry agreed to the terms, already mentally planning his surprise for the boy. He tried not to let it excite him too much, but the thought of being alone by a candlelit table gave his stomach flutters.

The two boys went their separate ways, Harry going to Care of Magical Creatures with the half giant Hagrid, a class Tom couldn't care less about, while the other boy was off to spend his free period.

Surreptitiously, Tom said goodbye to Harry, letting his hand linger fondly on his shoulder longer than usual, and then snuck off to his destination. It's been nearly a month and a half since finding this place, the Chamber of Secrets, the basilisk calls it. Tom was the only one with the power to open it.

He'd learned quite a bit about himself over this time, him being the True Heir of Slytherin. He discovered why he possessed a rare gift such as Parsletongue, and why no one else in the school would be able to find it nor open it but him. The basilisk gave him a special task, and that is preparing an attack.

Sitting on the edge of Salazar Slytherin's statue down in the Chambers, he looked towards the ground, eyes locked shut as the creature had instructed.

 _I'm beginning my attack, Tom Riddle. You mussst prepare yoursself asSssS well._

"What do you mean?" Tom usually never got the answers he was looking for when talking to this snake.

 _There isSss one thing I sSsstill need from you._ Tom lifted his head, eyes still closed, sensing the proximity of the basilisk.

"Anything." He said, eager to go through with the plan.

 _We cannot have any dissStractionsSs. You have within the next month to cut tieSssS with the Harry you are sSso fond of._

He breathed in at the mention of his name. "He won't be harmed, correct?" There was no answer. "He's not a pure blood, but he's a brilliant wizard."

 _Many mudbloodsSss have quite the grasSp on their magical abilitiesSsss. You are lucky I bent the ruleSssS for you, Riddle. Even with your tainted heritage. No one elssSe can be sSspared._

Tom swallowed, unsure of what to think. Have the basilisk kill Harry? Was that really the price to pay for ridding this school of muggleborns?

 _We only have one ssShot at thissssSs, Riddle. No disSstractions._

* * *

Harry and Hagrid were keeping quiet, hiding out in the library. It brought the boy comfort to be around the half giant, loving the familiar friendliness the student gave off. And he was intrigued to see him here, not in any dangers way since Harry was going to make sure he wasn't framed for the Chambers opening.

"An' you love 'im?" Hagrid's eyes widened, not so much in shock, but in intrigue. "I nev'r thought an'one 'ould genuinely like Tom Riddle. 'E's a great prick, that one is." Once seeing the look on Harry's face, he gave an apologetic smile. "Don' git meh wrong, 'Arry. 'M 'appy fer yah."

"He doesn't know yet, Hagrid. I was kind of wondering if I should tell him like tonight?" It came out as a question, only proving the boy's confusion. "I never thought I'd feel this way about him."

He'd confided in the half giant with this secret, feeling like he owed it to Hagrid. And lucky for him, the man didn't seem at all disgusted. Not that he'd ever imagined him to ever push him away.

Hagrid shook his head. "No, 'Arry. One thing I've learnt being alive like I am, is you can't put things off." He gave Harry a firm pat on the shoulder. "You need ter tell 'im before it's too late."

Harry thought about that. If anyone knew about life being too short, it's him. He's experienced so much death since the first year of his life. There are so many things still left unsaid to the people he's lost. "You're right." He felt a clench in his stomach, already nervous for his confession. "I'll tell him during my little plan for tonight."

Smiling triumphantly, Hagrid let out a satisfied grunt. "What're you gonna do tonight?"

"Now that part is still up for debate." Harry shrugged.

"I can help yah with that."

* * *

Tom returned to the commons room late that night, after all his classes and dinner he'd spent every moment in the Chamber, deliberating his decision to break things off from Harry and helping with the plan to destroy the mudbloods of the school. It wasn't something he could just sleep on overnight.

"Frisky Pixie" Tom had almost forgotten all about the Valentine's day plans, walking though the Slytherin's entrance, smelling the sweet smell of pumpkin and cinnamon.

The room was dimly lit, and Tom's gaze fell on the corner table, candles on the surface, silver dishes covered with a top. And then there was _him_.

Harry stood by the table, a shy smile on his face, both hands holding the handles of the tops. When spotting Tom, he lifted them up dramatically, revealing pumpkin spice pudding, two hot chocolates, and two heart shaped candies.

"Wow." That was all Tom could muster at the sight. It was simple, but special. Something he'd never expected. "I- I don't know what to say."

"Just come sit, will yah?" Tom happily obliged, going to sit across from his boy. _His boy._

"You did all this?"

Harry played with his spoon, now at his seat, looking at the boy. "I bribed Hagrid. He's got quite the amount of friends in the kitchen."

Tom hid his disinterest in the giant and focused on the boy in front of him. "It's amazing."

"Try it."

He looked at his dish, mouth watering when the smell of sweet spice hit his nose. Grabbing his spoon, he took a whip of pudding, placing it right in his mouth and shuddering at the taste. "Amazing." He repeated, closing his eyes and taking another spoon.

"Glad you like it." He opened his eyes to see Harry shuffling with someone at the seat next to him. When he lifted it up he held a neatly wrapped box.

"A present? Really?" Tom said with a playful smirk. "I wish I knew we were doing presents. Yet another holiday you make me look like a prick." He took the gift, turning it around, feeling the rather familiar weight and hearing the thumps it made. Smiling, eyes crinkling at the action, he tore open the box, holding the smooth surface of the snow globe.

Instead of Hogwarts school inside, it was a snow globe of Hogsmead.

Harry eyed him nervously. "I know it's a little lame and that you don't really like going to-" He was cut off when Tom moved his seat back, standing up. Staring at him, he watched as the boy took a graceful stride to his side, leaning down to him to kiss him on the lips, hand pressed on the side of Harry's face.

"I love it."

Harry blushed, looking down to his lap, squeezing his eyes shut. "I-I love you." He blurted out, shoulder's clenched. Too scared of Tom's reaction, he refused to look back up at the boy.

Suddenly, he felt arms around him, swooping him up in a tight embrace. He immediately relaxed a bit, calmed by knowing he wasn't going to be pushed away.

"I- um..." He heard Tom begin.

"You don't need to say it back yet." Harry said, pulling back from the hug, giving Tom a reassuring look. "I wasn't expecting a quick response." _I don't think I could handle one._ "I just wanted you to know."

Tom bit his lip, unsure of how to reply to any of this. Instead of saying anything, he only kissed the boy, moving his lips carefully, feeling the boy return his favor. One thing he knew for certain, he wasn't going to let anyone hurt Harry.

Harry was off limits to everyone, including himself.


	10. Love Doesn't Need A Definition

**Author's Note: Short chapter. Someone commented very good questions. All which will have answers do not worry. Enjoy! And feel free to review.**

* * *

Harry ran fingers through Tom's hair, both out of breath from the deeds they'd just completed. Legs entangled, skins sparkling with sweat, the two were quite exhausted. Granted they only did what they usually did, hand stroking, maybe some oral thrown in there, but for some reason something was different.

As the two lay there on the bathroom flood, their robes used as a form over cover separating them from the ground, they couldn't stop the flow of thought running through their minds. It'd been a week since Harry confessed his love for Tom, leaving both boys with plentiful questions.

Harry's question more along the lines of 'why can't we talk about it', and Tom's being 'why me'. Neither one was asked, fear of the answers that could potentially be returned. But with the unspoken words drew up a certain passion. Both boys have a desire that isn't being fulfilled in any other way but each other. So laying there, limbs tied in knots, enjoying the silent sound of their breathing, the unanswered questions were only a side thought.

Tom locked his eyes to the ceiling, in a daze from not only the blissful feeling of coming down from his high, but also from thinking about Harry's love for him. Someone actually has seen something in Riddle worth loving. It confused the boy to no end. He was sure he had strong feelings in return for Harry, but were they love? There could be no telling exactly how strongly he cared for the boy without any prior knowledge on the topic.

The only person he could ever admit to loving was himself. Although, he figured that didn't particularly count in a sense the emotion was much more selfless than confidence or even utter ego.

To be quite frank, Tom never even considered he had the capacity to love anyone. He lived his whole life in an orphanage with caretakers only worried about their next paycheck and children who feared Tom more than wanting to befriend him. For that reason, there was no one in his childhood he could ever feel so strongly for. Then there was Hogwarts.

He supposed he loved the school. Being here made him feel happier than anywhere else. Every staircase, classroom, bathroom, even the cracks beneath the floorboards. He adored everything about this place that made him special. Tom was different from all the weak muggles he lives with at the orphanage. He was stronger, unique, full of magic. That was one thing that couldn't be taken away from him when he left this school. His magic.

Granted, he couldn't use it outside the school for another two years at least, leaving him trapped in one state when he's home. If he would ever consider that filth his home.

No... Hogwarts was his true home. Even after school hours, when he resided in the discomfort of his springy bed and small spaced room, the first thing he thinks about in the morning is Hogwarts, and it's the last thing he thinks about before he goes to bed. There was no denying if he knew anything about love, he felt it strongest for this place.

Tom turned his attention back to the relaxed boy sprawled out on his chest, seeking anything for warmth. He twisted his body, which was completely naked, and wrapped his arms around Harry. The other boy let out a peaceful breath.

Did he love Harry? That questioned ailed him all week, leaving him restless at nights, exhausted in the mornings. There was a fiery passion about them he enjoyed. He loved making Harry squirm with pleasure, begging him and saying his name during his writhing mess. It brought him joy when the boy would seemingly return the favor, giving Tom the same courtesy of pleasure.

He also liked just spending time with the boy, whether it's secretly bumping legs under the table, or Harry sneaking through the dark commons to Tom's dorm. He liked the attempts the boy would make to show Tom a normal experience of things such as holidays. Never has he had someone try so hard for him before.

He couldn't even imagine his life without Harry. He even attended his game on Wednesday evening, and despite not knowing anything Tom still managed to sit down and cheer for the boy, maybe even enjoying it more than he'd like to admit.

For better or for worse, Harry has changed Tom. He no longer finds comfort in being alone. He is most comfortable around the company of the boy. However, he could also say the same about being in the Chamber of Secrets.

His thoughts took a turn, heading straight for the hissy voice of the giant basilisk seeking his loyalty. Tom hadn't decided how he was going to do it, but he was going to save Harry from the fate lying ahead. There was no way, love or no love involved, he could let the boy be killed. Even if it meant risking the rest of the operation.

Tom's eyes widened, focusing on the messy brown hair tickling his chin. Did he really not care about what happened to the rest of their plan in order to protect the boy? He figured half of that was true, but there was absolutely no way he didn't thing the rest of the plan was important.

Biting his lip, he had decided a while ago that this was the most necessary thing needed to be done. Even Harry would understand in the end. And who knows? Him and the boy could rise to power together, clearing mudbloods and just being-

"What are you thinking about?" Harry's voice was soft against the crook of his neck. Tom felt chills from the warm breath on his skin.

He didn't see any reason to lie. "You."

Harry could admit he was thinking of the other boy in return. "Are you okay?"

Tom gently pulled away from Harry in order to meet his eyes. "Why do you love me?" His blue eyes searched for any signs in the green ones, trying to pick out anything that could be a clear answer. "How do you know you love me?"

"To be completely honest, Tom, I have no idea." Harry averted his eyes. "I know I shouldn't love you, for many reasons, but sometimes our heart does things that surprise us." He noticed Tom's confused expression. "Not everything has to be explained, Tom. Love doesn't need a definition. It's all about how _you_ feel." Harry pointed to his heart to show him.

Gripping onto that information, Tom furthered his thinking, both boys moving to put their clothes on in order to get some sleep before the time to wake up fully arrives.

On the way back to the dorms, passing through the common's entrance, hands seeking the other for comfort, Tom spoke one more time before they went their separate ways. "What would happen to us if I didn't- no, if I couldn't love you back?"

Harry knew the answer, thinking back to Dumbledore's letter. Instead of lingering too deeply on that thought, he only shook his head. "I can't dictate how you feel." Was all he said before leaving to his own room.

He had never thought about that before. What if Tom wasn't capable of loving another person? Although it didn't seem impossible, Harry refused to dwell on that thought, knowing what would need to happen if he failed his mission.

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he laid his hand back on his pillow, succumbing to the dark of his sleep.


	11. Stomach In a Twist

**Author's Note: As you can see this is the 11th chapter. My goal at the moment is to have the story finish at 15 chapters. I don't know exactly if that's going to be the finishing number. I have things to resolve, I know this, and I still have to actually END the story haha. I'm working on all of this and unfortunately my updates might not be as frequent as I'd like. Which is due to school starting on Wednesday.**

 **I was hoping to have the story done by that time but I guess that's not how the cookie crumbles. Anyway... Hope you all enjoy :) (P.S I try not to bash Slytherin too much in this story, because I strongly value the meaning of a Slytherin. I myself am a Gryffindor/Hufflepuff depending on the quiz I take lol)**

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The cool air of February washed away with the arrival of March. Students were getting ready for spring in and outside of class. Hogsmeade is becoming more enjoyable to stroll around, leaving the dorms and commons empty most of the time during the weekends.

Even the Slytherins were enjoying some time outdoors, Harry included in the mix. Unfortunately for the boy, Tom was in one of his moods where it was "study this, study that", so he was on his own today. Although, he didn't really mind. Even he needed some time away from the boy with all the time they spend together.

Hogsmeade was one of the only places he knew he could fully enjoy himself in at this school. While none of his friends are around him in this timeline, nor are any of his favorite teachers, the only consistent thing is this village. The shops are a little different. Outdated for his taste, but he supposed it's in the norm for here.

He wished he could've convinced Tom to come along with him. The idea of sitting with him and drinking butterbeers and getting candy sounded fantastic. But like he said, he was is quite a fix with work at school and needed alone time to complete it.

Which now that Harry thinks about it, this has been happening frequently.

The boy turned into Honeydukes, almost drooling at the sight of the sweet candies and cakes. He'd acquired such a sweet tooth since getting here. With his hand in his pocket, he reached around feeling the amount of money. He sighed, only feeling a few sickles and knuts. Just another thing to add to the list of downsides in this time. He had brought enough money to last him for the year, but it had gone by much faster than he'd anticipated. Worst part of it; he can't go to Gringott's or anything. His Potter vault probably wasn't the same one he'd remembered it to be.

He assumed Fleamont Potter wouldn't appreciate a stranger poking around at his life savings. Although, the thought of possibly finding his grandfather and meeting him sounded lovely. There were so many things about this time he would almost kill to experience. But he can't grow attached to it. Harry already broke one of his rules of not dragging attention to himself by becoming friends with Rubeus Hagrid and some other Gryffindors. Now with that status, he was a house traitor among most of the Slytherins.

Honestly, that was fine with him. He'd already considered himself a traitor among them. The way he saw it, they were only collateral in his mission. Gryffindor, however, was his true house. While he spent most of his time in the Slytherin commons, attempting to get to know some of the other students during his time there (attempt is a strong word for it), he finally sees what would happen if he would've been placed in Slytherin his year one. Nothing much about him has changed in this time. He still battles their stereotypes for blood purity, not succumbing to it despite his father's pure blood status. Although, no one here even knows his real last name.

Funny enough, Dumbledore had the right idea coming up with a new last name for the boy. It wasn't too long being here that he'd asked upon the chances of a Potter being in this school. Hagrid had informed him of a Potter graduating the previous year, right before asking him of his interest in the family.

To be honest, Harry just loved the idea of his father's family roaming around the halls of this school. It brought him great comfort.

Although he was grateful none remained in the castle, knowing he'd be at risk of giving away his identity to them. Nonetheless, his thoughts always wandered to the possibility of meeting his grandparents after this mission is finished. If that is even possible.

Harry always pondered how he would be able to finish this. He lacked the proper mindset to recognize when he'd met the necessities for this mission. Especially with his newborn feelings towards Tom. Now everything was complicated and much more difficult. How was he even supposed to leave this timeline now that he realized he loves him and all. It was something he forced himself not to center his thoughts on.

"Harry!" He turned his head around to catch a sight of red hair. He greeted Grandere Weasley. Still pleased to have come across an unfamiliar Weasley who would probably never run into him again in the future, Harry went to the entrance where the girl resided.

"Hey, Grandere. What brings you here?" He saw her wrapped around in the red of her Gryffindor scarf, hands stuffed in her robes.

"Desmond's birthday is today. I'm looking for any presents I can get my hands on."

Harry gave her a wide smile. "Mind if I join?" She said yes and the two got to looking around the store for anything catching their eyes.

Harry wasn't familiar with Grandere in the family tree of the Weasleys, figuring she was just a first or second cousin on Arthur's side. But finding her was a miracle in the eyes of the Boy Who Lived. Introduced to by Hagrid, she always invites Harry to sit with her and her boyfriend Desmond, despite the age difference and the difference in house.

She was a sixth year, and obviously in the Gryffindor house as is every Weasley he's ever met. It's like they were all destined to end up there one way or another. Like the Potters, there's a certain legacy they all hold. Hopefully Harry being in Slytherin in this timeline didn't get in the way of their 'legacy'.

"Desmond was talking to me about our future." Grandere said shyly, the two standing in line in order to purchase their candy.

Harry eyed the girl for her reaction. She looked nervous in a way, but also sort of excited. "Are you okay with that?"

She sighed. "I don't really know for sure. I feel like he's settling. Like I'm settling."

"Don't you love him?"

Grandere nodded. "Of course. But do I really wanna marry the first man I've ever went out with? We've been dating for 3 years, and that's all I've ever known. All he's ever known." Her wild green eyes met Harry's. "I think we're both just scared to try different people."

Harry thought about his parents. James in particular. He's only ever went after Lily and they ended up having a love so deep that they made Harry, himself and sacrificed them self for the boy.

"Your relationship is strong. I don't think you're scared to find other people. You don't want to risk the best relationship you're going to have. I've seen you guys. You both are adorable. I can see it. You guys have a future together."

"You can't know that."

She's not wrong there. If Harry were familiar with Grandere maybe then he'd be able to give her a better answer of what she should do.

"It's up to you. Your heart is the best thing to ask for decisions like this."

The redhead looked down to the candy and cakes she was buying for her love. She tightened her lips and nodded. Looking abck up at Harry, she asked, "Wanna come with me to give these to him? He's in the library somewhere."

He nodded. "Of course I will."

They both purchased their food, heading out the door and back towards the castle. "Do your parents know about him being a muggleborn?" Harry asked, wanting to hear for himself that the Weasley's weren't purity activists in this time.

She chuckled. "Oh god, it was a shock at first but my mother loves him."

He was surely glad to hear it. "So I take it they don't care about that whole pureblood mess?"

"No, no, no. My parents love everyone. My whole family is open to everyone in their home." She shook her head. "I don't see why it matters anyway?"

Harry sighed in relief. "Yeah, same here. I'm half. My mother was a muggleborn." He shared.

Grandere replied, "And it doesn't make you any less than me." She sent Harry a look. "I'm sorry you're in Slytherin, by the way. No offense, but they don't seem like the nicest type."

"You can say that again." He said, rolling his eyes at the thought of his dorm mates. They're obnoxious about their talk of the Hufflepuff scum in their Herbology. It drives Harry completely insane. "I wanted Gryffindor, to be honest." He confessed. "The sorting hat knew it too, but Slytherin was his final decision."

Grandere gaped a little, obviously surprised by that information. "You don't act like one. You're not mean."

"Well, Slytherin technically aren't known for their attitude towards others. They are known for their cunning and straight ambition." Harry said, feeling a little weird for defending the house. But not all of them were terrible. They weren't great either.

"I guess you're right."

They reached the library, searching around the space for any signs of Desmond. They only saw crowds of teachers near the back. Dumbledore was among the group.

"What's going on over there?" Harry asked, squinting to see over the heads. He caught sight of the familiar head of blonde. "Desmond is over there."

Grandere smiled, hand gripping the bag in her hand. "Alright, let's go." They headed towards the teachers, all muttering among them self.

When Dumbledore met Harry's eyes as they two were walking towards the boy, sitting with his head away from them in a chair, books surrounding him, Harry knew something was wrong when seeing the sadness written on the Professor's face.

"Wait, Grandere." Harry held his arm out, stopping the red head from moving any further. "Let's wait for the teachers to leave. They might be talking to him."

"He isn't even looking at them." Grandere said, continuing the way to her boyfriend.

Harry should've tried harder. When the girl reached her boyfriend, the teachers were quick to stop her, but not quick enough. She caught sight of Desmond, his eyes shut tight, hand gripping around a mirror, other one holding tightly onto his thigh.

"Desmond?" Grandere shook her boy, the teachers all trying to calm her, explaining gently the words Harry was fearing most.

Dumbledore was the one who said it, placing a hand on the girl's shoulders. "I'm afraid, the boy's been petrified."

Harry's stomach twisted, knowing exactly what this meant. _No, Tom._

Tom Riddle has opened the Chamber of Secrets.


	12. Separation

**Author's Note: I finally got this chapter finished! I'm so lit for this story I'm so close to being done and boi oh boi is there about to be an ending for yah. I already got it all planned out and all I gotta do is escape school and reality long enough to write it.**

 **Enjoy enjoy enjoy! And please feel free to review :)**

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Harry sat with legs crossed on his bed, head resting on his hands. Not only was Desmond petrified (he was lucky he had that mirror) but Moaning Myrtle, which Harry guessed wasn't her full name, had been found dead in the girl's bathroom. Th _e_ words 'The Chamber has been opened' written on the wall in her blood.

He couldn't move from his spot, terrified of running into Tom, because what was he supposed to say? _Hi, I know you opened the Chamber of Secrets! How do I know? Well it already happened, of course. And oh yeah way to go for murdering that girl._ He was stuck keeping it a secret. The boy was already suspicious on how Harry had known about his parents at the beginning of the year, a mistake he still regrets. There was no way he could let his emotions cloud his judgement this time.

There was still a way to fix this. Catch him in the act, maybe? Alert Dumbledore? How could he fix this without losing Tom? Was there anything even for him to lose? The boy obviously hasn't changed then. That was something Harry was trying to wrap his head around. Where did that leave them?

Resentment grew slowly inside him. How could Tom be so selfish, ruining what they had with his malicious actions. And the worst part was that he couldn't yell or scream. He could only silently fume. There was no way he could explain how he knew about the Chamber.

His eyes shot to the dorm door, spotting Lance Felding rushing up the stairs. "He's coming up."

Harry had the boy on lookout for Tom, eager to avoid him at all costs. With no questions going to be asked, he found it the perfect way to plan a way in confronting him. "Thanks, man." He jumped onto his feet, grabbing his wand from his nightstand and shoving it into his waistband. "I'm off."

It seemed like this would become the new normal until Harry could build up courage to speak with the boy. Running through the halls, bursting through the bathroom and hiding in the stall, he panted, hands on his knees.

He heard the shuffling from the stalls next to him, mentally slapping himself for being so disruptive. Shaking his head, none the less, Harry perched himself onto the toilet seat, sitting there, threading his fingers into his hair to pass the time.

After about a half an hour he had decided it was safe to enter into his dorm again. Although it was getting quite apparent to him that the Slytherin commons in it's own wouldn't be a smart place to avoid the boy.

He wanted so bad to find Grandere and ask how the girl was doing after the incident. He couldn't imagine the pain she was going through. And without their knowledge of what the Chamber's monster is, they couldn't get any hint on what it's capable of. If only Harry could disclose some information. Maybe he would just settle with the Great Hall, sitting where he knew Tom would never follow him.

Arriving in the big empty space, immediately his eyes found the red haired Weasley surrounded by many of her friends supporting her while she cried her eyes out. It absolutely broke Harry's heart to see her like this. He moved towards the girl, sitting down across from her. She looked up, eyes finding his, a small smile tickling her lips. It fell almost simultaneously after.

"I'm so sorry, Gran." Harry took her hand in his, giving it a small squeeze. She was far too emotional to speak back to him, but one of her friends was nice enough to fill him in.

"Desmond's parents want to take him out of school." She said, head shaking. "Professor Dumbledore is the one who's been trying to convince them to at least let them fix the mandrake potion. And don't even get me started on Myrtle's parents."

Another friend nodded. "I heard the professors talking about sending everyone home. People are even saying Salazar Slytherin himself has returned to the school, working had to get all the muggle-" She was interrupted by the sound of Grandere sobbing heavily next to them.

"P-Please... Let's not talk about it anymore." She whimpered, digging her head into her arms to cry some more.

Anger bubbled inside of Harry, thinking strongly of Tom just roaming around the school without any guilt whatsoever. He knows he needs to talk to the boy. What will he say? Guess he'll just have to improvise.

* * *

 _Meanwhile_

Tom watched while mass panic filled the halls, students moving from one group to another discussing the latest gossip, the latest news they've picked up on from other gossip. It was despicable.

"I hear Salazar Slytherin is taking revenge on mudbloods being let into his school." A fellow Slytherin was babbling during breakfast. Tom was simply enjoying his crunchy toast when overhearing the talk.

He turned his head slightly to get a better ear on it. "I heard it was someone in the school who opened it."

"Yeah well whoever is doing it is gonna get an earfull from Dippett when he finds them."

"I doubt it. Dippette wants to give up on the search. I heard around that he's going to call off classes and send everyone home if this doesn't end."

Tom's ears perked, whipping his head to look at the fifth year girl. "Who told you that?"

Her eyes widened when he addressed her. "Uhh... I heard it from Professor Dumbledore."

He pushed up from his chair, startling the group around him. Turning on his heel he headed out the door towards the bathroom. To his dismay, the place was still swarming with teachers and students. The adults were studying the surroundings and the students merely peaked over the shoulder. With these many witnesses he surely wouldn't be able to get into the Chamber. Tom allowed himself to wander around the halls, not in any given direction. He let his thoughts run free.

All was going well for the basilisk, completing the plan he was probably given since birth. Even Tom himself could stand proud of his work. Only two mudbloods are gone, but they not only got the message to stay away from this school, they also send a message to all mudbloods roaming these halls with their tainted heritage. Watching the beautiful chaos playing in front of him, from frantic muggleborns fearing their safety, to the staff and teachers trying to pinpoint who was causing this mess, Tom could only sit and watch.

One factor he had not taken into thought was the repercussions of this feat. Sure he was getting what he overall wanted, the riddance of mudbloods, but at what cost?

Overhearing other students talking of the rumored closing of this school was far too much. The only thing giving him much needed escapes from his dreadful life in that orphanage was Hogwarts, his home, his legacy. He was meant to be here, and one day he would hope to teach here. Closing the school was out of the question. He doubted his ability to make the others understand his reasons. To understand the need to purify these halls. He couldn't risk making them see it his way. That only meant one other thing.

Without the privilege of talking to the basilisk he knew he couldn't get his message across to the snake. Tom knew he wasn't going to be happy with this news. Nor would it be a pleasant conversation in general. But there are things he needs to take into account. The teachers wouldn't just leave the school open for nothing. No, they needed proof the attacks would stop. In order for that to happen he would have to make it seem like they caught the culprit.

Passing through the dungeon entrance, Tom headed towards the commons. He hoped he would run into Harry while here. He hadn't seen the boy at all and he was dying to know his whole opinion of the ordeal. Knowing him, he would probably show remorse, or sympathy for the mudbloods. Tom was sure he knew one of them. Dean or something like that. Surely Tom wouldn't be able to confess his role in the matter.

Passing through the commons entrance he scanned the room, eyes running over the usual chair Harry sat at. He was no where to be seen. He caught a glance at some boy named Lance Felding sitting at his regular seat. Surprisingly enough, the blonde boy had his eyes glued on Tom, when their eyes meeting his head quickly whipped to face another direction.

 _I hate when they stare._ Tom sent a glare at the boy, ignoring him and continuing to check around for Harry turning to the tables by the bookshelves. When he turned back around to the fire, Lance was no where to be seen. Not really caring about the whereabouts of the boy he forced his attention back to what was important. He'd check up in the dorms and if Harry wasn't in there then he'd just catch him later on in the day.

Heading towards the stairway he shot up the steps, stomach fluttering in anticipation upon seeing his boy. Turning the corner to his dorm room he popped his head in, immediately forming a frown when seeing no one but Lance in the room. The blonde boy was sitting cross legged on his own bed, nonchalantly reading a textbook. Only Tom wasn't here for him.

"Have you seen Harry?" He asked, a straight face when talking to him.

Lance looked up at Tom from his book, red in the face when replying, "N-no. Haven't seen him all day. Maybe he's at the Quidditch pitch."

Sniffing, Tom furrowed his brow, not dumb enough to dismiss the absolute garbage of a liar this third year was. Not saying anything on the matter, he only turned out of the room, heading for his own dorm, not bothering to look back when he heard the footsteps of Lance getting out of his bed. Way for him to be completely obvious with this cover up.

The question was, why was Harry avoiding him? It didn't take a genius (which Tom actually was) to note the awkward presence Lance drew up. It was apparent that Harry put him up to lying to Tom.

Upon hearing Lance's footsteps fade down the stairs, Tom once again turned back to Harry's dorm, entering the door and moving straight toward his bed. There must be a reason why Harry wasn't here and needed a cover up for his destination. He hoped there was left over evidence to point Tom in the right direction.

Studying the surrounding of Harry's bed, he couldn't spot anything directly out of the ordinary. Shamelessly moving to the drawer on his nightstand, he pulled it open, seeing plenty of rubbish such as a photo of two adults dancing together in an odd setting. Tom rummaged through the drawer, also seeing yet another photo of Harry with two others, all laughing with each other. The boy must of been a third year, seeing as he looked slightly younger than he does now. He picked up the paper, smiling when seeing the happy look on Harry's face. It was rare to see him smile so wide. Tom wondered what made him so happy.

Closely looking at the two next to him, he saw a red haired boy, Harry's age, and an equally young female with unruly curly hair and a bright expression. What really caught his eye were the robes the three were wearing. Even with a slight blurry focus, Tom could still make out the red accents on the school robes, and a symbol even more familiar. A lion on the left side of his chest. _These are Gryffindor robes._ It was surely a different style than those they wore now, but it was no doubt that these were robes from the house of brave showoffs.

Confusion stitched his face before his eyes caught the sight of one more object calling out to him. It was some sort of folded up white piece of parchment. Reaching in, dropping the picture in the process, Tom picked up the other thing. Carefully unfolding it, his eyes scanned the top line. _Harry Potter, If you are reading this, I have died._

Tom's face grew grim. He looked at who signed the letter. Mouth laying agape, he made out the signature of none other than Professor Dumbledore. Folding the letter back up, he stuffed the parchment into his robe pocket, looking around him once to check if he was alone. Satisfied with his discovery, he closed the drawer and walking out with Harry's letter.

There were many things running through his head right now. Why was Harry wearing Gryffindor clothes? Why was Dumbledore sending him letters? And, who was Harry Potter?

Questions ripping at his head, he forced them back, promising his subconscious answers soon. He wanted nothing more than to explore these questions, but one thing placed higher in his mind. Time was of the essence, and right now he needed to solidify the status of this school.


	13. Deception

**Author's Note: It honestly makes my whole entire life knowing this story broke 50 followers today. To be completely real this is the first story I've ever written without copying script directly and just adding an irrelevant character. And I expected like 10 followers at most but this is crazy unreal to me. So thank you to everyone who actually read this and came back :)**

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"No... No... NO!" Harry banged his fists down on the sink, not daring to raise his head. He couldn't even look at himself in the eye. He had failed. Being so caught up in his selfish feelings for Tom turned out sour in the end. He had dropped his guard and forgotten about the reason he was here. Voldemort needed to be stopped, but this only felt like encouragement. Turning a cheek even when Tom was doing something suspicious. Missing dinners, supposedly studying. It was all a ruse.

Now Hagrid was the one paying for it. The boy had found out this morning, three days after the incident, after ten more muggleborns had been murdered, that Rubeus Hagrid had taken the fall for all the attacks. It was all Harry's fault.

Now that he'd ran away from all of his problems, refusing to confront Tom, too scared of his own feelings being hurt in the end. Harry was selfish. Because of that, he changed nothing.

Allowing his fingernails to dig deep in his scalp, he let out a helpless sob. Because even now, after all that happened he is too scared to talk to the boy. Riddle may not be very fond in his heart anymore, but he just frightened him. Harry couldn't feel anymore love in his heart. All he felt was pain, and the ominous ambiance that nothing will change.

Harry gritted his teeth, jaw tensing. Dumbledore sent him on this mission to save the future. To save the people Tom Riddle wronged. All Harry managed to complete was watch as the regular timeline set into motion. Only, it was set one year prior to how it happened originally.

Maybe time just couldn't be changed naturally. No, if Harry wanted anything to change he would have to do it the way he should've done it in the first place. The only question is, did he have the guts?

Tom has wronged him in the future. More than anyone else probably ever could've done. That doesn't change the fact that Tom here... Tom now... He doesn't even know any of the stuff he will do. He doesn't know any of the stuff he will become. Dumbledore sent Harry back to this year because this is the year before Tom completely lost control of any side of him that could be good.

Obviously Dumbledore was wrong. Tom was never good. Even after trying to convince him the good in muggleborns, the good in himself, he reverts back to how he was in the natural time. The only difference is that Harry was here to stop him. If only he had the strength.

Raising his head slightly, he let his tear struck eyes stare back at him. Studying every inch of his face, he saw a certain familiar sadness. Like when Cedric died, or Sirius, or Dumbledore. Tom Riddle has destroyed one other person in Harry's life that he cared about. He destroyed himself.

Taking the life of another. Harry deemed that as irreversible. There was no saving Tom. He fell back on his feet a little, standing up straight. Wiping away the tears he looked around where he was. _Their_ bathroom. The countless times they've come in here to escape, just to be with each other. Harry needed to get out.

Returning to the hallways, he shook his head, taking in a deep breath to clear his sinuses. Harry wasn't the person for this job. He had too much emotional connection. That made it dangerous. He thought back to Dumbledore's letter, having every line memorized due to the countless sleepless nights. One line in particular had his attention. _When you are ready to go home, you must breath directly onto the paper and the directions will reveal themselves to you._

Was he ready to go home? Not quite yet. But he only needed one day for this plan to work. As much as his mind, body and heart begged him not to, Harry must do what he most dreaded. He needs to finish the job another way. Gripping his wand in his robes, he headed towards the dorms, ready to pack himself up for the trip he's about to endure.

Dumbledore's words were precise. If Tom showed no signs of changing, Harry must end him. It was the only way.

Walking up the steps of the Slytherin stairs, Harry held his breath, entering his room. Looking around he could list all of things he would miss about this place on one hand. No part of being in this house settled nicely with him. As terribly as this sounded, he greatly missed Gryffindor. The oceans of red, the familiar faces, the welcoming atmosphere.

Heading towards his bed post, he sat down on the mattress, wiggling around to get one last feel of the place. He supposed if anything was good about this place, it was the mattress. Despite the freezing temperatures, the bed itself was quite comfortable. Nevertheless, he would be glad to part with it.

His eye locked onto the nightside table. His escape was in there. For the whole week he's avoided going in there. Before all this chaos, he strongly thought Tom was changing. Now, not so much. Gladly giving in, he reached towards the drawer, sliding it open. Smiling, he caught sight of the picture he found himself staring at when he's most feeling sad.

Mrs. Weasley was obsessed with this picture. It hung in every room of the Burrow. Harry only felt right by bringing his copy with him. Him, Ron, and Hermione were in their Gryffindor robes, about to go their separate ways after their third year ended. It was the last year Harry could honestly say he was happy. He assumed it was the same for everyone in Hogwarts. Everything went to shit after that year.

But this picture reminded Harry they could be happy again. Once the bad in the world was gone. Once Voldemort was gone. He ran his finger over his own face, studying the smile stitched into the picture. There were a few things that could honestly make him smile like that. Perhaps, Tom Riddle had been a part of that list at some point during the year.

Sighing, he folded the picture and place it in his robes. Next was his parents photograph, one that brought him comfort after many years of abuse with the Dursleys. He smiled, watching his parents dance in the photo. "I'll see you again." He whispered, fear that his voice would crack from his pain. There were undoubtedly more tears threatening to fall.

Repeating the process, he took the photo. His gaze fell back down to the drawer, rummaging through the pointless nick nacks in order to get to what he needed the most. But unfortunately, Harry Potter didn't find the only thing that could bring him home. His eyes widened, throwing things out of the drawer, falling to his knees to closely look through the space. The letter... It was gone.

* * *

 _Meanwhile..._

Tom's eyes ran over the words one more time.

 _Harry Potter,_

 _If you are reading this, I have died. And you are grieving. I am sorry to leave you with so little answers, and much more arising questions. You're probably wondering where the other horcruxes are, preparing yourself for the long crucibles ahead of you before your inevitable battle with Tom Riddle._

 _Without me, you are feeling hopeless, and inept. I know you are scared Harry, you need not fear any longer. Your journey with me is long but over. You see, my boy, I have been prepared in the case of these unfolding events. I have what muggles call, a scapegoat._

 _Look upon the wall, changed by magic, led to you by Fawkes. There are things in this world capable of many things, Harry. That wall is one of the most powerful objects known by not many wizards. It is called "_ _flumen temporis", or the river of time._

 _Second year you encountered Tom Riddle, blinded by his hate and lack of morals. He is devoid of love, believing himself incapable. You know the story behind him making his horcruxes during his sixth and seventh year. Now that I am no longer present to aide your journey, we're going to need a different approach._

If he has ever been confused in his life, now would top everything else.

 _Tom Riddle will kill thousands, perhaps more. He's already taken everything from you, Harry. But when you meet him in this timeline, it will be different. You know he has done, and that will make it difficult to be near him, I understand. But you must remember, this Tom Riddle is different. He has not done any of the things that caused you to despise him. During this time, he is only a pitiful boy ashamed of his heritage, fooling every with his charm, confidence, and power._

 _In order to have anything in the future to change, to stop 'Lord Voldemort' from ever happening you have two options._

Tom's eyebrow furrowed. The rest of the letter was basically rubbish. But for some reason it made so much more sense. Harry, sent here to destroy Tom, or change him by introducing him to love, compassion.

He was perched on a chair in the library, scratching his head with a free hand. Harry lied about everything, then. He didn't care about Tom, or what happened to him. He was sent to deceive the boy, to show him a false love in order to halt any future potential the boy might possess.

Tom's mind fluttered back to their first interaction at the beginning of the year. Harry's utter anger towards Riddle, sputtering out information no one could possibly have known. Whatever Tom did to Harry must've caused the pure hatred he'd witnessed. But the only problem was, what did he do? He's never met the boy before. Hell, Harry went to Ilvormorny. No one here has ever met him.

He didn't even recognize the last name. Greyhorn. It wasn't a known last name, so his father must've been a no one. At least, that's all he could assume. But that was if Grehorn was even his real name.

 _Harry Potter_. Potter was a moderately wealthy name. One of Fleamont Potter who had just left school recently one of the previous years. Him and Euphemia were Head Boy and Girl of Gryffindor. But what did that have to do with Harry?

None of this made a bit of sense to Tom. Where was the connection? In the rubbish about time travel? The 'flumen temporis'? Tom has never heard of such a thing, and he's researched nearly every piece of literature on time travel during his third year.

Regardless he couldn't comprehend if this was all some big joke or code. Nor did he understand the ultimatum. Harry either changes him successfully, or he's left with no other choice but to end Tom? Was Tom really so dangerous in the future?

To properly make sense of anything, he knew the only thing he could do was ask Harry himself. One thing he knew for sure, the boy was definitely planning something about Tom. That was why he was avoiding him, getting Lance to cover his whereabouts.

Tom has been fooled. And to think that he'd actually felt something remote to _love_... The word felt disgusting, as if poisoned in his mind. It was all deception and tricks.

If Harry thought he'd gotten away with it, he's gotten something else coming for him.


	14. Confrontation

**Author's Note: I really am sorry for the lack of updates. Now that I've gotten a bit more hold on my school schedule I think I'll have more time to update this. Once again IM SO SORRY :) I'm gonna extend the story. I wanted to update this to show you I was living.**

* * *

Harry ran through the halls, skipping class. He didn't need it anymore. There was only one person in this whole castle that he knew could help him. He was trapped in a time where no one knew his real identity, without any way to get home. With no idea where the letter went, Harry was forced to approach his last chance.

Stopping in front of the Transfiguration room, he peaked through the door's window, seeing an empty room with the man in question sitting quietly at his desk, distracted by a big book. Taking a deep breath, Harry prepared himself for the discussion he unavoidably was about to have. Raising his hand to the door knob, he jumped at the sudden cough he heard.

"Come on in, Harry." Dumbledore said, not even glancing up.

Harry sighed, not surprised with his awareness. Mentally preparing himself, feelings his nerves rack his whole body, he walked through the door. "Um... Hello, sir."

The Professor put down his book, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. "Something's troubling you?"

"Yes," He hesitated. "But, you already knew that, didn't you?"

Dumbledore gave a small smile. "You must be very homesick, my boy." He said, a small wink shot Harry's way. "Being so far, I mean. Sit down."

Harry's eyes widened, walking slowly to the chair. He wondered if Dumbledore meant something with 'homesick'. "Professor, do you kno-"

"I know only as much as you tell me." The adult interrupted. He gave up a growing amusement. "I expect it should be time for you to return home soon. Back to where you really came from."

Not quite sure what the purpose of him speaking in riddles was, Harry decided to jump to the chase. "Yes, Professor. The only problem is... How do I get home?"

"Well, Mr. Greyhorn. One would think it immoral to leave without taking care of your unfinished business, now wouldn't they?" Dumbledore folded his hands together, giving Harry a stern look. "You must finish what you started before leaving so soon. Then you will find the answer you so desire." He gave a glance to the windowsill behind him.

It was then that Harry understood. He came here to do one of two things. Either change Tom, or kill him. Without completing the mission, he would be stuck in the past forever. "Thank you, Professor. I think I understand."

* * *

Harry gripped his wand handle from the waistband of his trousers. He was sweating profusely, looking everywhere for the reason he was here. It remained a tough decision, one that would hurt them both in the end. But Harry was determined to finish this. No matter the cost, this was the only way he could leave this time.

Having failed at searching for the boy every place but one, Harry knew exactly where the boy remained. The one place that had started the most problems for him. The place that started his reign of terror.

And Harry was one of the few that knew where it was.

Regardless of his own unenthusiastic behavior for visiting the Chamber, the necessity of the situation won him over. Harry understood that if he wanted to go home any time soon, he was going to need to confront this unfinished business.

Standing at the entrance of the great Chamber, touching the locks magically melded to the door, he whispered the word open in Parsletongue, watching the stone snakes artificially slither out of their spot. Harry's heart beat in anticipation, unprepared to see the boy gripping at his consciousness.

But, alas, the chamber door was opening before him, revealing the mess that was the tunneling home of the basilisk. At first, Harry couldn't get a glance of where Tom was, eyes closed due to the risk of the snake murdering him and all. But the voice guided his way.

 _Hee isSs tressSpaSssing massSter._

"Harry?" Tom's broken voice filled the echo-y space. "H-how?"

Eyes squeezed shut, Harry was able to hear the extent of Tom's pain. Something was bothering him, and something told him he knew what it was. "Tom... We need to talk."

"I already know." The other boy replied. There was silence for a second before Tom ordered, "Shut your eyes." The basilisk made a hiss of disdain, but drawn to his master, he was compelled to comply.

Tom breathed out. "I already know everything."

Harry slowly allowed his eyes to open, keeping them to the ground, at Tom's feet, unable to fully face him. His gaze fixed on the crumpled letter on the space next to the boy. "So you know why I'm here."

"I just... I don't understand."

"You don't need to understand."

Tom scoffed. "And why is that? You used me, didn't you? Tried to change and oppress whatever I become. That's the only reason you ever talked to me in the first place, isn't it?" His voice cracked at that last part. Harry's eyes widened, looking up at the boy, stricken with ambivalence, a mix of anger and sadness on his features.

"No!" He paused. "I mean, maybe that's how it began. But you have to realize that I-"

"You what? Love me?" Tom sneered at the word. "You love me? Love me so much that all year you've been plotting against me. Harry Greyhorn? That's not even your real name!" He stomped his foot, ignoring the thud. "You _LIED_ to me!"

Harry was taken back, confused to the hypocritical behavior from Tom. "I lied?" He let himself laugh. "You have been lying to me since January, haven't you? Telling me you've gone to the library, met up with some friends, not feeling well. You've been here! Plotting against the entire SCHOOL." He began to let his anger boil, no longer attentive to Tom's sad feelings. "I really thought you'd changed! Like actually changed, and were going in the direction of someone I could be proud of. And then you do this."

"Why do I have to change?" Tom had a fire in his eyes. "I never asked for you to 'save' me, or whatever you were trying to do."

"You read the letter. Don't tell me you didn't understand it." Harry fumed.

"How could I possibly understand? All this time the exchange that introduced me to something more profound than anything I'd ever experienced turned out to be a time traveler from the future coming to kill me cause I'm unable to change the direction of my life." Tom bared his teeth. "It's not as easy as you'd like to believe, Harry _Potter_."

There was a pregnant silence, both boys heatedly glaring to one another. Once the silence died down slightly, Tom opened his mouth to speak again. "Was I so dangerous that you had to come all the way back here to kill me?"

Harry thought about this for a second. Once, he perhaps would have unhesitatingly said of course. Now? He couldn't help but let his feelings get in the way. "I could never."

"Why? Obviously I did something so terrible to you. What did I do? Kill your bloody dog?"

"My parents." Harry whispered, eyes sinking.

Tom's breath got caught in his throat. He supposed he never thought much about Harry's parents before. They were never brought up in conversation. "I what?"

"You killed my parents. I mean... Will kill my parents. When I was only a baby. And you've killed many more."

The other boy was speechless. "Was it because your mother was a muggleborn?"

"It's because my parents threatened your power. Because I was prophesied to kill you." Harry lifted the hair on his forehead, exposing the scar Tom assumed was from a childhood accident. "You gave me this scar as a baby."

Tom's mind was open, looking at the stature of the boy in front of him. Studying every movement, every little breath. He was telling the truth. And it made Tom sick. "What else did I do to you?"


	15. Can You Feel the Love?

**A/N: What's good guys? I'm still alive :D I still am really keen on finishing this story and I'm so sorry it isn't as frequent as during the summer. School has been such a process and I'm currently in 4 after school clubs, meaning that most days I don't have too much free time. Today, I got quite lucky, but I can't promise an update by a certain time. Most likely, I'll end up writing pieces of it and just finishing it whenever I'm not too busy. Enjoy :)**

* * *

Up in the abandoned ladies room, Chamber now closed, Harry snuck a look at Tom, the contour of his face washed with shadow. It was a grim atmosphere, everything silent. They didn't know what time it was, or where the other students were, and they didn't care.

Harry let out a sigh, stomach in a tight knot after his talk with Tom. He let out everything, telling him about the horcruxes, the prophecy, everything. He felt absolutely sick, the ominous feeling that everything will fall apart hung over him. Despite the other boy having a guilty look, there was no way of knowing that disclosing all of that information was gonna fix the future, or the boy himself.

For all he knew, he could return to the future and have nothing even be there at all.

He felt himself growing more frustrated, tears of sadness, and annoyance forming at his eyes. Nothing goes right for him. It seems like the world honestly just conspired against him, and standing in the cool bathroom next to the boy who could potentially fix his whole life, he just felt completely hopeless. It was if he already lost the battle, and was going to lose the war.

Shutting his eyes, he leaned against the sink, allowing the cruel and taunting memories of him being happy fill him with envy. Hermione cooking the polyjuice potion, Ron and Harry screwing around in the meantime. Even with Hermione nagging them to help, or at least chill out, they were all laughing. They didn't know that they'd have to face worse things than basilisks in the Chamber of Secrets. They were young then.

Young and naive. What Harry wouldn't trade for that time was a short list. He wished that he didn't know all the terrible things Tom does in the future. As selfish as it sounded, he wished he could go back to earlier in their relationship, when he almost forgot about the troubles he'd faced. When he'd just loved Tom without having all this guilt push against his gut.

He clenched his fists, breathing out. Next to him, he could feel Tom stir about, back against the cold ceramic surface. The other boy was silent, not uttering a single word. In his mind, he pictured the bodies of Harry's parents, and the little baby laying in a crib, crying, confused. To know he inflicted even a sliver of that pain made him shudder. He couldn't imagine hurting Harry or anyone else he loved. That would be like hurting himself.

But then again, he did hurt Harry, didn't he? Maybe not in this time, but somewhere out there, his future self is hurting the boy he... loved.

Knowing this information had cleared a pathway in Tom's mind. In the beginning of the year when Harry had all that hostility towards him. It was all making sense.

Lifting his head, he allowed his eyes to wander onto Harry. The boy was in distress, and Tom could see him contemplating everything. His eyes were shut and he was just still.

Tom raised a hand, daring a touch. Thinking against it, he let it fall back to his side.

"What?" Harry opened his eyes, meeting the striking blue ones.

Tom only shook his head. "Nothing." He deadpanned.

The boys remained in a pregnant silence. That didn't last forever though, and soon Tom huffed in frustration. "No... Not nothing. Harry, what are we doing?"

The other boy stiffened, looking up to Tom. "What do you mean?" He played dumb, tightening his lips. "We aren't doing anything."

"Harry... You know damn well we can't just sit and do nothing-"

"What are we supposed to do?" Harry breathed in, letting his fists ball. "What do you think we should do? What should _I_ do?" He took a step back from the other boy. "My only options here are letting you commit all of your crimes and just go home, or kill you." Tom blinked.

"I can't do either of those." Harry finished quietly.

Tom swallowed, his head falling, eyes locked on his shoes. "There's another choice."

"And what would that be?" Harry asked, getting more and more stressed.

"I could change." Tom closed his eyes.

There was an eerie silence. Harry didn't dare to open his mouth, knowing his words would betray him. How could he possibly trust himself to believe that, despite wanting to more than anything.

"I will change." Tom restated.

"How could you know that? You've always wanted power. You've always wanted to prove yourself. How could you just change?"

"I would change for you." Tom said, staring intently at the boy in front of him. "I would do it for you, Harry." Both boys stared at each other. Harry's cheeks got pink, thinking of the exact way he said those words. "Harry... I lo-"

"Don't." Harry held up his hand. "You can't know that."

Tom sighed, reaching for his wand in his robes.

"What are you doing?"

"Just shut up for a second." Tom said, gripping his wand and pointing to the empty space in the bathroom. Closing his eyes in thought, he raised his right hand and braced himself. " _Expecto Patronum_." At first, it only came off as a white light, but then he shut his eyes tighter and said it again, and Harry's eyes widened at the sight of a medium sized dragon leaving Tom's wand, dancing through the space.

Tom stared at Harry's face, happy with himself to show off his new trick. Harry was shocked. "How did you learn this?"

"I figured it out for a while. I never said anything cause I wanted it to be a surprise."

Harry never thought this was possible, Tom being able to cast a patronus. He's never loved a single soul. But then again, here he is, watching the majestic dragon fly around until it simply disappeared. "I don't know what to even say. This is just... amazing."

"Don't say anything. Just realize how much you've already changed me, Harry." Tom reached for Harry's hand, feeling the slightly clammy sweat from the boy's nerves. "I don't want to hurt you anymore." He took a small step closer, testing out the boundaries. Without Harry's rejection, he took the unspoken invitation to plant a gentle, smooth kiss on the boy's lips. "I love you."

"I l-love you." His voice was unsteady, wavering, but Harry was sure that he meant it. It was underneath his nose this whole time, but Tom had already changed. He wasn't the same person Harry'd met at the beginning of the year. Despite the terrible mistakes he made with the Chamber and the unforgivable crimes he committed, Harry sees the good in him.

Both boys leaned in for another kiss, closing all space between them, physical and mental.


	16. Reaching the End

**A/N Wow it's been a while! I'm so sorry I completely neglected this story when school started up.**

"What was I like when you knew me?"

Harry thought about this. Him and Tom were laying on the couch together, Harry playing with Tom's hands, and Tom's head laying on his lap. "You were terrifying." Harry said honestly. There was no point in sparing details by this point, the future was already unrecognizable by this point. Or at least, Harry hoped so.

Tom, trying to lighten the darkened mood, asked, "Am I still devilishly handsome?"

The other boy had no choice but laugh out loud at this question. It couldn't have been farther from the truth. "Oh gosh, you don't even wanna know what you look like."

Tom sat up quickly, facing Harry straight on. Immediately his hands went up to his face protectively, stroking his pale cheek. "You're joking."

Harry shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

"What happened to me? Did I get disfigured in a battle?"

Harry shook his head. "Worse. You changed your appearance to match that of a snake's." He paused, allowing the boy to take this in. Tom's eyes went so wide Harry thought they'd fall out. There was no telling what could be going through his head right now. What kind of images ran wild. "I don't even know why you did it. I guess you didn't care about your looks when power was involved."

Tom closed his eyes, shaking his head. "How could I do that to myself?" He asked.

"There were a lot of things you did that I still don't understand." Harry said, instantly regretting it when Tom's face fell even more. "I'm sorry, we can change the subject."

"Who else did I hurt in your life?" Tom asked suddenly.

"No... We don't have to talk about this." Harry grabbed Tom's hand.

Looking down at their contact, Tom replied, "I know we don't. I want to know more about what I did. How I hurt you." He supposed he wouldn't particularly care if it weren't for the fact that it happened to Harry. No one could hurt Harry, not even himself. That's probably the reason why Tom was so keen on changing after all.

"My godfather, Sirius, he was killed during one of our battles. You didn't kill him but if it wasn't for you, he wouldn't be dead." Harry thought about his late god father. "He was my father's best friend. He was framed for my parent's murder. He was there secret keeper, you know?" Harry let out a breath. "So when you found out my parent's location, Sirius was to blame."

Then the thought of that dumb rat Peter came up in his head. "It was my father's other friend who betrayed him. Betrayed him for protection from you. It was in my third year when I found Sirius again and discovered his innocence." Harry could feel Tom's eyes on him. "My fifth year, it was beginning to become more evident that Sirius could become my guardian. That was when you returned and we could prove that Peter was alive. Sirius told me he could be my new guardian and that I could live with him away from my terrible aunt and uncle."

Tears balled in Harry's eyes and when Tom saw them, he tried to cut the chord. "Stop. I don't want to hear about it if it's going to make you this upset."

"No, trust me... It's okay." Harry said. He continued the story. "It's honestly weird. It's been only a year since it happened technically. I was at the end of my sixth year when I traveled back to this time. I've never really talked about Sirius like this." Harry pursed his lips. "He never got the chance to become my guardian. He died at the end of the year from one of your most deadly followers." Reliving this part of his fifth year was definitely painful. He found himself crying a little harder then. It's always difficult to think about the last person who was that connected to his parents. At least, one of the last.

Tom brushed some hair out of Harry's face. "I won't ask you any more questions. I understand just how hard it is to think about this type of stuff." There was one thing pushing at his mind though. Seeing as though Tom wasn't planning on ruining Harry's life like his alternate self had many years into the future, this story that Harry's telling him will never happen. It brought a little bit of peace to Tom knowing that Harry could be happy.

* * *

A couple weeks later was when Tom started to realize that Harry could never be happy here as he is now. Not with the dark memories, his misplacement in time. He definitely lied about not asking Harry questions. Tom found himself asking many questions to the boy, from stuff about his aunt and uncle, to his most recent curiosity.

"You were a Gryffindor huh?" Tom said, the two boys sitting across from each other at the library.

Harry smiled, a warm rush coming over him at the sound of his old house. "Oh yes, I was a Gryffindor alright."

Tom dramatically groaned, joking around with the boy. "How could I have ever fallen for such foolery."

Despite knowing he was joking, Harry couldn't help but feel resentful. "Please don't start with that. I have had to spend this whole year hearing people trash talk Gryffindor, and most of it comes from you." He didn't mean to snap, but this was his least favorite topic.

Tom's smile fell, narrowing his eyes at the boy. "Wow, you must really have loved that house."

Harry nodded, flashes of Ron and Hermione filling his mind. "I found my closest friends there. More like family than friends, really."

And that's what really gave it away. Tom not only saw the instance of happy in his boyfriend's eyes, but he also sensed the emitting of yearn from Harry. This boy didn't only miss his old life with his friends, he desired it.

Tom realized the problem before it even started. For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to try to fix it.


End file.
